


The Native

by startrekfanwriter



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 45,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekfanwriter/pseuds/startrekfanwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ship that launched all Spock's ships. Sometimes even a race that prides itself on logic can be illogical. And when you've been cast out of your own world, finding love where you find yourself is a very logical thing. A Sarek/Amanda origins story.</p><p>(This story is <a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5566846/1/The-Native">complete on fanfiction.net</a> where it has 2K+ reviews, but some fans bugged me to port it over.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pon Farr

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, Notesfromtheclassroom.

He sat in the coolness of the cave, meditation firepot in front of him. His body was filled with warmth. Occasionally, his station allowed him the luxury of a bath. He was familiar with the feel of warm water pooling over his body. Now it felt like warm water pooling from within...it was almost pleasant.

And then it was not. The feel of warm water turned to the prick of hot needles.

His body longed and his mind reached for what his body  _craved. T'Sala_.

From across the light years her mind whispered back.  _K'diwa, Sarek, I burn for thee._

The feeling came. Spreading through his body engulfing him, it wrapped around him like the velvet darkness draped the stars. In his hormone-addled mind, he and T'Sala's bodies were the fire of the stars...the blackness was the feeling that bound them through light years.

_I am coming home, Sarek. I am coming home to you._

His body ached and strained; his loose clothing felt like rough ropes against his skin. He desired her...it was not something he could meditate away anymore. He wanted to claim her, be inside her, mark her with his teeth, fill her with child.

Her mind rushed through his and absorbed his passion, accepted it, echoed it. And somehow that echo made his desire manageable.

It allowed him to regain some conscious thought...and the thought was this...this agony, which was not agony, almost pleasurable, was simply their bodies struggling to be joined, as their minds had been joined fifty-six years ago.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

_Sitting cross-legged on pillows across from him, the little girl stared at Sarek. Her features were symmetrical, her hair shaped in the same short practical cut as his. This was the first time they had met._

_Her name was T'Sala; she was seven years old, just as he was. He heard she was a good student, played the lute -- as did he, and liked 3D chess -- but who didn't? He had also heard that her family was noble. But so was his, so that was to be expected._

_Today she would become his bond-mate. He accepted this. He was not nervous. Only curious._

_One day they would desire to procreate. That idea seemed far-fetched to him. He understood the mechanics of the process but could not fathom that the organ necessary would function in the way required. Nor could he imagine wanting the necessary organ to function in such a way._

_As the healer had instructed, he reached out and touched her psi points. T'Sala mirrored his motions. Through the skin contact, he felt her curiosity and was certain she felt his. Then as the healer had instructed, they began to chant in unison. "My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts, one and together, never separated."_

_He let his mind drift as he did in meditation and suddenly found himself staring at himself and T'Sala at the same time._

_"Fascinating," he said aloud._

Yes, fascinating.  _It was T'Sala's voice in his mind._

_Suddenly he was awash in memories and sensations not his own. She used to be afraid of an uncovered vent in the basement of her house...She was unusually attached her pet sehlat..._

_He might have commented on these illogical tendencies but he felt her seeing the time he knocked over a servant carrying plomeek soup...his irrational fear of the dark that lasted until he was five..._

_She didn't dwell much on these memories, didn't comment on their being irrational. He felt her become focused on the memory of his last lute practice session._

I do not know that piece, _she whispered in his mind. Sarek suddenly felt a wave of admiration from her._

_He decided that his bond mate was acceptable._

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Sarek's body swayed forward. Catching himself on his hands, he cried out in shock and anger, "T'Sala, what has happened?"

Through space and time her voice whispered.  _The ship was shaken. I know not why. Do not worry, k'diwa, I am coming..._

Despite her words, he could feel her disorientation and her fear; for a moment he thought he might be overflowed with panic, but then she composed her mind and started to send him memories...

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

_A year after their bonding, they met again. They played a duet for their parents on their lutes. It was a surprise to both sets of adults; Sarek and T'Sala had secretly practiced through their bond._

_To their great satisfaction, they both performed flawlessly. To their great surprise, their parents were immensely pleased._

_They were confused. It seemed only logical to employ their bond towards pursuits that furthered both their abilities._

_When they articulated this thought, T'Sala's father said, "It is completely logical, but not always pursued, especially at such a young age. Continue to assist one another."_

_Sarek heard his mother comment to T'Sala's mother, "We have chosen well."_

_He looked at T'Sala._ Someday we might actually be friends _, he said through the bond._

_Her eyes met his. He felt her satisfaction at this statement._

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

She was trembling. No, the ship she was on was shaking. She had been seated on the floor in front of an incense burner. She had extinguished it for fear of fire. Now she sat strapped in a chair as the ship quaked.

The safety harness crossed her breasts. He wanted to hold her breasts, wrap his hands around them from behind and bury himself in her...He let out a low moan.

She was far away. In danger. And he was too weak and too mad at this point to defend her.  _I have failed you, T'Sala...I have lost myself at the worst time._

_Sarek, you are sixty-two years old, and this is only our first time. Your emotional control is immense._

Sarek took a long breath at this. He was being irrational. Like so many times before when his logic escaped him, she caught him. Buttressed him. Centered him.

_Have we not always done this for each other?_

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

_T'Sala was alone in the Vulcan Forge, undergoing the 10 day ritual of survival all Vulcans participated in. She was frightened. Sarek spent most of these ten days in his room playing his lute for her. He neglected his studies. He asked to be excused early from meals. It gave her peace to listen to the notes of the lute in her mind. And this peace gave him peace._

_He expected to be reprimanded by his parents. Instead, after T'Sala's time was complete, they praised him for his part in her survival. It was logical to put the physical survival of one's bonds mate above one's studies. Someday his life would depend on her..._

_When his time in the Forge came, she did the same for him._

_After that they always addressed one another as t'hy'la -- friend._

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Alone in the cave, the emotion they had no word for flooded from her to him. The humans had a word they called  _love_...but it didn't do this feeling justice. She was his. He was hers. She would tear out the stars for him if she could.

His skin felt like it was ignited. He wanted her. Couldn't be with her.

Bending over in his cross-legged position until his head rested on the floor, he felt his own erection pressed against his belly. He screamed.

T'Sala heard. Her skin caught his fire and she too felt like she was aflame. He felt her body longing to take him in.

Somehow this made the fire bearable.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

_They were both twenty-two. They had not seen each other in three years. But now they had both been accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy._

_Sarek was struck by how aesthetically pleasing his bond mate had become. Pulled back to reveal the delicate points of her ears, her hair fell straight down her back in a shiny black water fall. Her shoulders were square, though narrower than his own. Her breasts were now round and full, and impossible to hide even beneath her Academy robes. And as she walked he caught the sway of her hips._

_They were alone in the great hall. It was the first time they'd ever been alone together. Sarek was inspired. He questioned with his mind._

Yes, _was her reply. And he was flooded with happiness that was hers and unsuppressed._

_He held up two fingers. She responded in kind._

_And then, he did something terribly daring, just on the verge of_ _indecency._ _Pulling closer, he dropped his forehead to hers._

_She was not offended, only slightly worried someone would see._

_He felt an inexplicable urge to bite her..._

_She swallowed; in his mind he felt her jaw clench._

_She wanted the same._

_It was a revelation. It was wonderful._

_But through their minds in unison came another thought._  We must control this. The time is wrong...

_In unison, to both of their great satisfaction, they pulled their bodies away. They began to discuss their research and gave into mutual fascination at the other's pursuits, physical urges all but forgotten._

_But later that night Sarek was awoken by that forgotten, though necessary, organ. Panting, he clutched the sheets as an unfamiliar emotion wracked his body and visions of T'Sala whirled through his mind. He wanted to bite her, penetrate her, touch, protect...Shuddering, his body spilled hot liquid upon his stomach._

_He felt T'Sala awaken in her room far across the Academy grounds, her body hot...a spasm running through it._

_Sarek had never felt such shame. But T'Sala did not reciprocate this feeling._

_Instead, she whispered through their bond,_ a practical demonstration.

_In the darkness Sarek blinked in surprise._

It is only a natural physiological reaction; it overcame you while you were unconscious. It seems illogical to feel shame for one's unconscious mind, _T'Sala mused._  When the time comes we can both rest assured the required anatomy is in working order.

Perhaps we should no longer touch?  _Sarek mused back._

 _He felt T'Sala analyzing this statement._ Your proposal is logical. We both have much to accomplish before children and the necessary changes that will bring.

Goodnight...k'diwa,  _she whispered softly in his mind._   _It was the first time she'd called him k'diwa. Half my heart, half my soul._

_She did not reject him for his lack of self control. She even saw the logic in it. He wondered at the random factors of the universe that had brought her to him._

Goodnight, k'diwa,  _he replied._

_He felt her slip back into satisfied sleep._

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Panting, he kept his head on the cool cave floor. His body shuddered. Her ship was shaking. He felt her fear...but more than that, he felt the strong bond of the powerful territorial emotion he'd felt the day they'd first touched when they were twenty-two.  _Mine,_  her mind was whispering... _I will claim you as mine...protect you, care for you, bear your children._

His mind and body echoed, and there was relief for both of them in the echo.

And then there was a scream of anger in his mind...not at him...at fate...as illogical as it might be. He felt his body explode in fire. But it was not his body, it was hers...

He screamed in rage when he discovered he was still in one piece, still on the cave floor. T'Sala was dead...he should be dead...

He was no longer alone in the cave...

"We must bring in the replacement," he heard someone saying; it was difficult to determine who over the sounds his own body was making.

"We will call Princess T'Yava."

"She will do. She will have to."

Sarek's mind screamed out,  _No I will die. Let me die._ But the sounds that came out of his mouth were only the inarticulate sounds of fury.


	2. Fractured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my beta Notesfromtheclassroom.

His body was on fire. On either side of him, men gripped his arms. He may have struggled. He may have slouched in their grip like a rag doll. He may have been screaming.

Sarek heard his mother speaking...she was close enough to touch, but her voice sounded far away. "Take him to the chamber. There is no time for the marriage ceremony. Princess T'Yavi awaits."  
 _  
T'Sala...T'Sala...T'Sala...T'Sala..._ Sarek closed his eyes, uncertain if he was thinking her name or chanting out loud. On either side, cool hands gripped him. His mother was less than a meter away...but he was alone in his mind...for the first time in fifty-six years.

"My son, she is gone." He felt a ripple of compassion, of concern, of fear. His mother -- through the weaker familial bond they shared. "You must accept T'Yavi -- death is not logical when it is avoidable."

_T'Sala...T'Sala...T'Sala..._ He was sure he struggled then, trying to get away. If he could get away, he could join T'Sala in fire and darkness. His bond mate. He was  _Hers_ , only hers. Someone screamed in anger. Maybe it was him.

And then he smelled her; he did not know who, just that it was definitely a her. His body began to betray him; his mind screamed out for T'Sala, but his body...his body registered that there was a female...young, fertile...he strained now to get to her, not to escape. If it was possible, the fire in his skin became hotter.

Kicking, twisting, attempting to thrash his arms, he struggled against his living bonds towards the female. And then he was free, his feet propelling him forward.

He found her sitting alone in a cavern on a mat, her eyes focused on the floor. He fell to his knees in front of her and reached for her psi points even as he began ripping at the light pants he wore.

When he began to achieve something like consciousness again, it was to find himself on top of a strange woman, a spasm shuddering through him like an earthquake, a chant upon his lips or in his mind.  _T'Sala, T'Sala, T'Sala..._  
  
It didn't matter if he said it aloud, of course. The woman beneath him, whose face and features he could barely register, was in his mind. She heard.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The fever broke days later. Awaking on a pallet on the floor, Sarek found himself in a room dimly lit by recessed lighting carved from living rock.

T'Sala was no longer in his mind. That was his first conscious thought.

Someone else was near the space T'Sala had once occupied. She did not fill T'Sala's space though -- barely even touched it.

He felt pain, closed his eyes -- realized it was not his own pain. Rolling to his side, he saw her lying in fetal position facing away just over a hands breadth away from him.

Her back was crisscrossed with scratches and the blooms of green bite marks. His body had struggled to claim what his mind did not fully accept.

Sitting up slowly, he realized she knew he was awake but did not move. Flooded with guilt, he swallowed. Could he ever make this right?

Looking around the room, he saw a basin and some towels near a water dispenser. He walked over, filled the basin with warm water, and brought it and clean towels over to...T'Yavi...he knew her name.

Kneeling down on the floor next to her, he found his mouth was too dry to speak. Whispering through the bond he said,  _Please, forgive me. I have wronged you. Please let me help._

Gently soaking and wringing a small towel in the warm basin, he reached towards her shoulder.

Before he could touch her, she rolled to face him. Even beneath bruises and bite marks she was beautiful -- or maybe that was simply an illusion of the bond? No, her features were symmetrical. But...he stared...she was so young.

Searching his mind, he found he knew this information through the new bond, weak as it was. She was only nineteen. They'd sacrificed a baby -- a child -- for him. No doubt she was related to T'Sala in some way and her family wished to strengthen their ties to his clan. She was probably the only available unbonded fertile female...

T'Yavi's young face was the perfect mask of Vulcan calm, but beneath the mask he felt her emotions boil.

"Get out," she said softly.

Perhaps it was confusion, leftover tendrils of the fever still grasping at his mind, but he did not move immediately. This was his bond-mate...and not his bond-mate. His wife...no, not his wife. But he had hurt her; he reached two fingers forward, wishing he could take away some of her pain.

She did not reply in kind.  _Revulsion_ spilled through the link.

T'Yavi's words were short and clipped. "I saved your life. I will not be a pawn of anyone, ever again. Now. Get. Out. Out of this room. Out of my mind."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"She is with child," his mother, T'Don, said, "but she will not marry you. It will bring dishonor upon her clan, ours, her and you. Have you not tried to sway her through the bond, Sarek?"

He stared at his mother. Of course he had tried -- was trying. He wanted to make this right. T'Yavi knew he didn't have feelings for her, nothing beyond guilt and remorse. He hardly felt gratitude; he'd wanted to die...And she knew the feelings he still had for T'Sala...for a dead woman...and was angry. Jealous. He was trying to convince T'Yavi that with time they both would come to see each other as true bond-mates...It had taken so long with T'Sala...

He still held to the possibility that their union would be legitimized.

Looking down, T'Don said softly, "Of course you tried. She is too young. I tried to convince T'Pau that for a Vulcan whose mate had died, an older match would be preferable. One who had been bonded before. One who had lost. One who would understand. But T'Yavi was what was available, and T'Pau seeks to unify our clans. Now we are all tarnished as illogical."

Staring down at the floor, Sarek said nothing. He might have been horrified at one time by these events, but next to the grief he felt for the loss of T'Sala, all emotions paled in comparison.

Except...he might have a child...that was something to live for. Something to fight for...

"And now T'Yavi plans to break the bond," T'Don said.

Sarek's eyes shot from the floor. It was very un-Vulcan, but his mouth dropped open. He hadn't known...T'Yavi had hidden this from him. He knew she was a strong telepath but...

"She did not inform you, and you did not sense it?" T'Don asked.

"No, Mother. She did not..." Sarek almost stammered.

T'Don took a long breath. "She has flirted with the teachings of the V'tosh ka'tur in the past."

The V'tosh ka'tur. Through their bond Sarek had seen T'Yavi's philosophical inquiries into the ways of the Vulcans without logic. He thought she had put this behind her, but their bond was shallow...fractured....

"We must prepare for the fallout of her actions. I have heard that she is strong enough in her psi abilities to break the bond herself. Why she has not done so yet I do not know," his mother said.

Sarek reached through the tentative link. Why had she not broken the bond if that was her wish? Did she expect something from him? He touched T'Yavi's mind, but the only he response he got was darkness. It was illogical, but Sarek felt as though the air pressure in the room had just dropped.

T'Don said, "If she breaks the bond, you must see a healer and have the same done for you. You will be scarred...again...but in time it will be manageable. You will be able to bond again."

Scarred. Again. He was already scarred by the loss of his bond to T'Sala...now he faced the prospect of losing his bond to T'Yavi...

"And..." his mother said, "it would be good for you to leave Vulcan for a while. Let T'Yavi stay. Let others witness her illogical actions without your presence; let her self destruct."

Stomach dropping to the floor, Sarek protested. "But my child..."

"The child will not be yours, Sarek. She refuses to marry you," T'Don responded, turning away from him. "Nor will the child be mine." From the familial bond Sarek felt _sorrow_ , although his mother did not acknowledge this feeling out loud. It would have been unseemly. Still, it was a relief to know someone shared his pain.

T'Don was quiet for a long time. At last she spoke. "The Ambassador to Earth, T'Zena...we have heard rumors about her. Some say that she has adopted too many of the natives' customs. T'Pau has been seeking a suitable observer for her for sometime. After this unfortunate affair, I believe she would be willing to send you."

Sarek stiffened. Earth was barely one hundred years past warp capacity. Its people were emotional and intellectually inferior by all accounts. "I am a scientist, Mother, not a diplomat."

T'Don looked down. "You are also one of our clan. Your emotional control has always been admirable, even for a Vulcan. That is why your first Time was so late..."

Sarek wondered how much of his emotional control was T'Sala's control...or  _their_  control...He had no ready answer, so he said nothing.

"We need someone who can observe T'Zena logically," his mother continued. "Obviously, some accommodation must be made by ambassadors to native customs -- but it is a fine line. The reputation of Vulcans as logical beings is vital to our standing in the galaxy. Our reputation as moral and logical followers of Surak must always be maintained first and foremost."

"I am ill-prepared for such an assignment," Sarek said. He did not say he did not want the assignment, did not mention that he wanted to return to his work at the Vulcan Science Academy. His wants were emotional.

"Nonetheless, you will be assigned as junior ambassador under T'Zena. And you will report your findings on her behavior directly to T'Pau and myself," T'Don said.

Sarek's mind was reeling. An odd lump formed in his throat. He had lost T'Sala. He would lose his child and his current bond mate. He had lost his position at the Vulcan Science Academy. He had lost his home world and be forced to live on a cold, wet, inhospitable planet among savages.

Bowing his head, he acknowledged his assent.


	3. Introductions

The image came unbidden into his empty mind during meditation.

Parents...T'Yavi's parents..."We indulged you long enough; we did not force you to bond. Now a man's life is in danger...you must..."

Sarek felt  _guilt_...no, T'Yavi did. The weight of a man's life. His life.

He saw himself in the cave through T'Yavi's eyes. Running into the room, eyes empty as a frenzied animal's. He felt hot fingers on his psi points; no, her psi points. Felt a bond snake into his mind; no, hers. And then the hot weight of himself upon her and pain.

Blinking, Sarek opened his eyes and stared at his incense stand. Since he had broken the bond with T'Yavi, he was troubled by visions of her life. They crept up on him when his mind was empty, during meditation, or just before waking and sleep--a remnant of their broken bond.

Guilt and shame would serve no purpose now. Taking a deep breath, Sarek let the emotions settle.

He might have tried to block the visions, or seen a healer, but sometimes he caught glimpses of his son, Sybock. Sarek had remained on Vulcan exactly twenty-three days after his and T'Yavi's child was born in hopes he would get to see his son. It had not been allowed. Now he only saw the child in second hand glimpses...and he had no control of when the glimpses came. He wondered if T'Yavi thought they were no longer connected at all, so no longer shielded her thoughts. He saw more of her now than when they had been bonded.

Lifting his head, he gazed out the window. The early San Francisco morning was gray, the city was enveloped in a cloud. Fog, they called it. It made vision difficult and streets and walkways slick with moisture. Very impractical. And chill.

The hum of the hotel room heater filled his ears. He had run it constantly since the night before. Not just for heat, but also to keep the air dry. The cold humidity of San Francisco penetrated walls and seeped into bed clothes. It was distinctly unpleasant.

Rising to his feet, he made his way to the sanitary cubicle to prepare for his first day at the embassy.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Sarek reached the open gates of the embassy at 06:55 sharp. The building behind the wrought iron gate was of an ancient Terran style. The walls on the outside were of a substance he'd read was called stucco. There were large, dark wooden double doors at the entrance of the building.

One door opened as he approached. Standing in the opening was T'Zena, the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. Sarek recognized her from introductory subspace calls with her. She wore her hair long but swept back conservatively, and she wore traditional Vulcan robes. She was a few years older than Sarek; he'd heard she was unbonded. Her features were symmetrical, her figure healthy...since being unbonded, he noticed these things about females.

Next to her was a human male, his face very pale, hair washed-out yellow.

"Greetings, Sarek," said T'Zena. "This is Josef Friedmann, Chief Financial Officer of the Vulcan Embassy and our associated consulates on Earth and in the Sol System."

Anticipating that Josef might reach a hand in the Terran handshake, Sarek brought his hands quickly behind his back and gave a curt nod.

The expected hand never crossed the space between Sarek and Josef. Instead, Josef merely nodded. Pale blue-gray eyes met his through glass panes mounted on thin wire frames. It took Sarek a moment to realize that these were corrective lenses for a vision problem. He knew humans were advanced enough to be proficient at laser surgery; he wondered at the strange use of...glasses...yes, that was the name for the antiquated Terran technology.

"I have a presentation to give this morning," T'Zena said. "Mr. Friedmann has volunteered to give you a tour of the embassy in my stead."

Nodding once more at Sarek, she turned swiftly on her heels and vanished into the embassy.

Sarek wasn't at all surprised that T'Zena had departed to attend to other duties. He  _was_  surprised that a human was Chief Financial Officer of the embassy. It was an important enough position to be headed by a Vulcan, especially knowing humans' far inferior ability with numbers.

Sarek appraised the human male carefully. Friedmann was easily as tall as Sarek himself. He wore the business attire prevalent among males of earth--a light jacket buttoned from its three-centimeter circular collar to its hem, matching pants, and shoes that looked disturbingly like they may have been made of animal hide. Sarek would have said they were of the same age, but that was impossible as human lifespans were only a little more than half that of Vulcans. Perhaps thirty five then?

Friedmann extended a hand towards the space in the doorway. "After you," he said. His pale eyes never left Sarek's.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The public space of the bottom floor consisted of a wide entrance way, offices of the human staff, and a large "ballroom" currently occupied with an exhibit of Vulcan artifacts and paintings. A second floor balcony above the room completely encircled the ballroom and led to offices of the Vulcan staff.

"It is easier to keep the ground floor cool and the upstairs warm for Vulcan comfort; that is why the offices are separated," Friedmann explained.

Sarek noticed that his 'the' sounded like  _zee_  and his 'is' sounded like  _iz_. "Your Standard is accented."

"I am German," Friedmann replied.

"Your accent is...distracting," Sarek said. "Why have you not chosen to erase it?" Only Vulcans with menial jobs chose not to ameliorate their provincial dialects.

Friedmann's response was quick and curt. "At the age of one or so, humans begin to lose the ability to learn new sounds. Standard is becoming integrated into early curricula across the globe just now. I learned too late to be accent free."

"Very inconvenient," remarked Sarek, climbing the stairs to the second floor. "It is quite cumbersome to have one's population hindered by multiple native tongues and cultures. Hopefully the global adaptation of Standard will help erase those cultural distinctions along with the distracting accents."

They were nearly at the top of the stairs before Friedmann responded. "Mr. Sarek, I happen to be Jewish -- as well as German. I find the idea of erasing human cultural distinctions very disturbing."

Sarek tilted his head. He knew that to be Jewish was to belong to one of the monotheistic religions of the planet.

Reaching the top of the steps, Friedmann waved his hand to the right. "Your and my offices are this way, Mr. Sarek."

As Sarek followed the direction the man had indicated, Friedmann said, "I have to admit, I am curious as to what tasks you will be attending in your office. We were informed just a month ago that we would be receiving a junior ambassador, a position we've never had before...but no word on what you would actually do."

Turning his head, Sarek found his eyes met by Friedmann's. He decided he did not owe the human the dignity of a response.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"pfffffttttttt"

"pffftttttttt"

Standing on the periphery of the two classes of eleven and twelve year olds, Amanda lifted her head quickly in the direction of the sound--and saw Tobias and Julienne, ever partners in crime, on the second floor balcony that wrapped around the main hall of the Vulcan embassy...shooting spit balls through straws. Perfect.

She looked around. Apparently she was the only one who had noticed. Mrs. Applelenass, their teacher, stood ten meters away, nodding her large head in appreciation of the guide. Amanda's own students were being remarkably well behaved...all things considered.

"pfffffttttt"

"pffftttttt"

One of the spit balls hit Mrs. Applelenass in the back of her generous neck. The large woman shivered a little but didn't even bother to turn around. It occurred to Amanda that turning might involve a little more physical exertion than Mrs. Applelenass might be willing to expend but...

Amanda swallowed...The Vulcan Embassy...of all places to misbehave. Making an executive decision, she dashed for a narrow side stairwell she knew from her Vulcan language classes.

Taking the steps two by two, head bent over in exertion, she made her way to the first landing and found her passage blocked by...she blinked...two of the most gorgeous specimens of masculinity she had seen in a long time. It was sad she noticed these things so much since her breakup. It must be true--if you weren't with someone, you were always looking...

One was human -- she'd seen him around: tall, blond, Nordic-looking and wearing the sexiest wire-rimmed glasses. The other was Vulcan. Tall as the human, but dark haired, dark eyed -- and oh, the ears, those glorious ears.

Inspired, she blurted out, _"Excuse me,"_  in what she hoped was passable Vulcan.

Both men stared.

She smiled. "I'm sorry, I was trying to say  _excuse me_  in Vulcan. It didn't come out right though, did it?"

"Your pronunciation was not even barely passable," the Vulcan said, his face an inscrutable mask.

She had just been thinking delicious thoughts about this man, and she had tried to speak his language, and she still had two spitball-shooting children to apprehend. Her face went hot and before she could even think, she blurted out, "As are your manners!"

The human male gave her a smug smile and stepped aside to let her pass.

Amanda nodded at him, shot a scowl at the Vulcan, and dashed up the remainder of the stairs.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Sarek stared after the young human woman as she ran remarkably quickly up the remainder of the steps. He should not have noticed that the alien woman had symmetrical features and was obviously very healthy. That was wrong, wasn't it? He tilted his head...it was very inconvenient to be unbonded.

"Ah..." said Friedmann, following his gaze. "One of the teachers from the school field trip downstairs, no doubt. Pretty girl...I think I've seen her around. I think she takes Vulcan language classes here at night."

"She accused me of being rude," said Sarek, suddenly focused on the brief exchange of words he had just had.

"Because you were," said Friedmann.

"She asked a question and I responded truthfully. How is that rude?" Sarek asked.

"You were too blunt," Friedmann responded. "Generally it is polite to soften your criticisms with praise."

"I can think of absolutely nothing praiseworthy in her pronunciation," Sarek replied.

Raising an eyebrow, Friedmann said, "I can tell you're going to get along very well here."

There was something about Friedmann's tone...Sarek was completely at a loss. The man had just criticized him...but then said he would get along fine. How confusing.

Nonetheless, Sarek reasoned that he spoke Standard completely unaccented, unlike his guide and many of the natives. He was an astrophysicist and a member of the Vulcan Science Academy. His intellect was far beyond the average Terran...certainly he would be able to grasp the subtleties of human interactions with ease. Therefore there could be only one conclusion.

"Thank you, I believe I will prove you correct," Sarek said.


	4. Teacher Teacher

 

"When the office staff is coming to  _the German_  to confide in their unhappiness, you know something is very wrong!" Friedmann said, voice elevated. He stood across the room from Sarek.

Sitting at her desk between the two men, T'Zena said nothing.

Sarek tried to parse the words. Was there something significant about Germans that would make humans disinclined to confide in them?

One of the human's hands flew up in the air. "Mary Darcy was the third reader to quit since you started overseeing the department forty-five days ago, Sarek."

The readers were responsible for analyzing all media related to Vulcans that appeared in Earth's news feeds, plays, art exhibits, movies and television, and they were responsible for making reports. There were readers at the Embassy that were fluent in every human dialect -- all were human.

Friedmann brought his hands to his hips. "I do not have time to be CFO and play counselor to humans you rub the wrong way."

"Why not simply apply Vulcans to the same task?" Sarek asked. "Vulcans can quickly learn new languages. I myself already have a working knowledge of Chinese and Spanish. Twenty-five Vulcans could easily take over the jobs that are currently held by one hundred and five humans."

"Knowledge of the language is nothing without cultural context, Sarek," the ambassador said. "...As the recent turnover in our staff has indicated. For now, I think it would be best if the readers report directly to me."

Sarek stiffened. He had chosen to oversee the readers' reports because he had hoped that would give him a deeper understanding of the various cultures of Earth...and to occupy his time. He had not realized that he was responsible for the turnover in the department, or even that the turnover rate had been unusual. Humans were well-known for being fickle...and they certainly didn't take criticism well. Ms. Darcy's eyes had at one point started to leak during his last conversation with her.

"You don't have time for that..." Friedmann stopped, licked his lips. "...Madam Ambassador...and it should be a human. We are talking about analyzing human responses, after all."

"Agreed on both points, Mr. Friedmann. But we cannot afford to lose more readers," T'Zena replied. "Sarek, you will, of course, be allowed access to all the reports and analyses."

Sarek tilted his head. "Are there any other duties that I could assist you with? I have no wish to be idle."

"You mean you aren't busy enough with whatever it is you were sent here to do?" asked Friedmann.

Sarek noticed the man's jaw twitched ever so slightly. He did not respond.

The ambassador looked at her desk.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Settling in his office later, Sarek mentally reviewed his meeting. He'd failed, apparently -- due to his misunderstanding of human manners, something that seemed like it should be simple. He'd read every available title written by Vulcan authorities on the subject.

He tilted his head. He would solve this problem...But in the meantime, he  _did_  have his duties to T'Pau.

Turning his attention to his computer screen, Sarek resumed his report on the one thing he had seen that stood out as an error in T'Zena's logic. Josef Friedmann. Or rather, Mr. Friedmann's assignment as Chief Financial Officer. Unfortunately, so far Sarek had not had much luck.

It was true that the human couldn't remember numbers to any degree a Vulcan would find satisfactory. When Sarek questioned him directly about interest earned on endowment funds and expenses incurred towards charitable donations for the last year broken down by month, Mr. Friedmann had to check the PADDs he kept as crutches. But despite his obvious substandard memory, Friedmann was competent at managing the Embassy's revenue. Sarek could find no examples of errors or accounting sleight of hand.

So today Sarek was investigating something new. He pulled up the returns and asset allocations for the Embassy's reserve funds for the past five years. Perhaps he would find evidence of nepotism in the selection of investment vehicles, or simply poor judgment? Humans were well-known for their ability to fall for Ponzi schemes.

At just that moment he heard Friedmann's voice echo from the doorway. "You must see a healer."

Sarek heard sniffling and then words spoken in Vulcan.  _"Your suggestion is logical. I had not expected to be as incapacitated as...as..."_  A soft muffled sneeze followed.

Looking towards the door, Sarek saw Friedmann walk by with an elderly Vulcan gentleman.  _"Do not be concerned about your class tonight,"_  Friedmann said in heavily accented, though tolerably understandable, Vulcan.  _"I will find someone to teach it for you."_

Turning back to his monitor, Sarek returned to the business at hand. He was interrupted just five minutes and thirty-two seconds later by Mr. Friedmann at his door.

The human stood with his hands behind his back. "Professor Karmac is sick. If you are looking for something to do, you could cover for him."

Sarek stared at the man, utterly confused. "I was under the impression my knowledge of human...manners...made me an exceedingly poor choice when it came to tasks that required interacting with them."

"You won't learn anything by not interacting with them." Friedmann narrowed his eyes. "You said you did not want to be idle."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

She arrived at her Vulcan language class at the Embassy nearly a half hour early, so Amanda began reviewing the vocabulary words from last week. The sound of footsteps at the door caught her attention. Turning with a wide smile, she attempted her best Vulcan greeting. _"Good evening, Professor Karmac...."_ and stopped.

It was The Vulcan. The tall good-looking one that had been so incredibly rude in the stairwell. It was amazing how quickly a strong jaw, sexy pointed ears, and sensuous lips could become rather unappealing after seeing his foot inserted in his mouth.

The Vulcan stood very still in the doorway, then said in his native language, _"Professor Karmac is ill. I will be teaching tonight."_  He tilted his head.  _"Do you understand?"_

Amanda nodded. He stared.

 _"Yes, I understand,"_  she said.

 _"Your pronunciation --"_  he began.

 _"Is --"_ she switched to Standard, "barely passable, I remember. But if it were perfect, I would not be in this class, now would I?"

He blinked. "That would not be logical, no. I was going to say specifically that your pronunciation of 'Yes' is tolerable, but you are putting too much inflection on the 'I' in the second part of your statement."

Amanda shifted slightly in her seat. Well, that was slightly better.  _"Thank you for the constructive criticism,"_ she said at last. It was one of the first phrases one learned when studying Vulcan.

The Vulcan walked to the front of the class. He didn't carry notes. Vulcans never did. They seemed to have near-perfect memories. Turning to face Amanda, he put his arms behind his back and said, "You did not find my criticism just now rude?"

Amanda blinked. She hadn't expected that question. "It was blunt. But honest...and I appreciate knowing that at least part of what I said was," she winced inwardly, "...tolerable."

He nodded. "I have been reading up on human manners. And I understand now that is important to begin a criticism with a compliment. But I must confess, I am having some trouble with the implementation of this concept. What does one do when one can find nothing praiseworthy?"

Amanda stared at him, confused for a moment. "I think you can always find something good to say..."

"I disagree. Take, for instance, our last meeting in the stairwell. You managed to render a simple phrase completely unintelligible," the Vulcan said.

"Thank you for reminding me of that," Amanda said, feeling herself go warm again.

"You are welcome. Although, I am surprised you had forgotten. I was not aware human memories were so --"

"I was being sarcastic," Amanda said.

The Vulcan blinked. "Ah...Sarcasm...another concept I have studied but have difficulty with when it comes to practical application." He tilted his head. "Have I offended you again?"

"I don't think you can offend me any more than you already have," Amanda replied tartly.

"Really? That is most convenient. Then we may speak frankly to one another," the Vulcan said.

It suddenly occurred to Amanda that although the Vulcan spoke perfect Standard, he was missing half of what was being said. At least he seemed to be slightly aware of that...still...it was weird how clueless he was. She actually liked Professor Karmac. He wasn't exactly warm, but he was unfailingly polite.

"Are you a member of the Vulcan diplomatic corps or trained as a Vulcan language instructor?" she asked curiously.

"Neither. I am trained in astrophysics and am a member of the Vulcan Science Academy," the Vulcan said.

"Well, that explains it," Amanda said. Inwardly she smacked herself. Now she was just being mean...How had that gotten out? Probably it was the subconscious knowledge that the guy wouldn't get the barb...but maybe he would...

"Explains what precisely?" the Vulcan asked.

Nope. He didn't get it.

"Never mind," she said quickly. And she smiled, determined she would be nice from now on.

"Well, then, back to our previous topic. How could I have possibly provided praise for your first poor attempt at pronunciation?"

He was determined to make being nice hard, wasn't he?

"Well," she said, "you could have praised me for the attempt, and then given me the correct pronunciation as you did just now."

"Why would I praise the attempt?" the Vulcan asked, still standing perfectly straight, eyes almost unblinking, hands behind his back.

"Maybe because you are on my planet, but I'm going out of my way to speak your language to make you feel comfortable," Amanda said.

"You were trying to make me feel comfortable?" the Vulcan asked.

Actually, the other day she had been trying to impress him because...because she had thought that he was good looking. Of course now that she knew his personality that spell was broken...

"Yes," she lied.

"Fascinating," he said.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"My name is Sarek," he said to the young human woman. "And you are?"

"I'm Amanda...Amanda Grayson," the woman said. He noted her eyes were unusually large, but brown, as were most Vulcan eyes...unlike Friedmann's whose were so pale they almost appeared empty.

She had just provided him with the most helpful advice on the practical application of manners that he had yet to receive. He tilted his head and regarded her.

Her forehead glistened slightly, and her wavy shoulder length hair clung in damp dark brown tendrils at her temples. It suddenly occurred to him that they were in a conference room on the second floor; it might be a little too warm for his human students.

"Would the environment be more conducive to learning if it were cooler in here?" Sarek asked.

He would not have thought it possible, but her eyes got even larger -- and her lips turned up slightly. "Yes! That would be great!"

Sarek looked around for environmental controls as the rest of the class filed in. By the time he'd given up and simply opened a window, all the seats were full.

The rest of the hour passed fairly smoothly. Sarek did not offer much praise. But he was very careful to give only specific criticism. No one's eyes leaked, so he deduced he had not been a complete failure.

As he ran through the lessons -- quite boring and monotonous, really; it turned out humans had to use a word eight times before it would be fully committed to memory -- he began to formulate a plan.

Amanda was packing her PADD away when Sarek approached her. "Miss Grayson," he said, "may inquire as to why you are studying Vulcan?"

She looked up at him. "I'm going to apply to graduate school for a degree in education. In my chosen field the comparison of Vulcan to Human teaching methods features prominently. Many influential educators here on Earth believe we should adopt more Vulcan teaching methods."

"That sounds most sensible," Sarek said.

Standing up Amanda replied, "I'm not certain about that. Vulcan and Humans are so different. I'm not sure that Vulcan techniques would be as effective with human children...But anyway, because of the heavy influence of Vulcan practices on my field -- well, any field on Earth right now--the better my Vulcan is, the more likely I am to get into the school of my choice. I'll be better able to understand source materials in your language. The universal translator is useful but still inadequate."

Her motivations were entirely logical. There was only one flaw.

"Your Vulcan is very...rudimentary, but your chosen vocation depends on it," Sarek said.

She appeared to stiffen slightly. "I am mostly self-taught, and your language is very difficult."

Sarek nodded. "We are in similar predicaments. You need to improve your Vulcan. I need someone to aid me in my understanding and utilization of human culture and customs. Perhaps we can work out an arrangement?"

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, her brows furrowed slightly together. "Well...that might be helpful...and interesting..."

"Excellent. Perhaps we can set up a time to meet with one another. I have your name and contact information; shall I contact you?" Sarek asked.

"Okay..." Amanda responded. Then she nodded, and her lips pulled upwards ever so slightly.

At that moment Friedmann stepped through the doorway. "Well, how did it go?" he asked, looking at Sarek.

"I do not think I am qualified to reply," Sarek said.

"He did fine," said Amanda, turning to Friedmann with a smile.

"I don't think I know your name," Friedmann replied stepping forward.

"It's Amanda," she said. Sarek noticed she did not even mention her last name...was that a snub directed at the other man or...

"I'm Josef," the man responded, skipping his own last name and stepping even closer to Amanda. By their increasing proximity Sarek hypothesized that there had been no snub delivered by either party.

Extending his hand to Amanda and taking it in a Terran handshake, Friedmann briefly looked up at Sarek, and then back down quickly to the human woman. "I'm glad Sarek didn't scare you away," he said.

"Oh, don't worry. He didn't. And I'll be back," said Amanda with another smile.

Friedmann pulled away and backed towards the door. He tilted his head in her direction and then in Sarek's and smiled. "It is very good to hear that."

 


	5. Insinuations

Sarek didn't just take Amanda's input on the Vulcan ambassador's 'much praised' sense of humor. He did a thorough literature review and discovered that unequivocally, her 'dry sense of humor' was regarded as a good thing by his human hosts. When he presented his findings to T'Pau, he was certain to point out that this 'native tendency' did apparently have a logical underpinning.

Listening across the subspace channel, T'Pau did not comment. When he was finished, she nodded. "We will take your findings under advisement. With the drought in our Southern Hemisphere, it is indeed important that relations with Earth are cordial."

It was important that they humor the humans, then...so to speak. Sarek looked down at the ground as that thought "popped into his mind." He, of course, did not say it aloud.

"And what of your investigations into the Embassy finances, and Mr. Friedmann?" T'Pau asked.

Sarek met T'Pau's gaze. "I have not found anything yet. He has been working as the Chief Financial Officer for three years, although he was employed below the last CFO -- a Vulcan, for five years before that."

"Yes, yes, I know," T'Pau said. "There is a lot of material to go through. Mr. Friedmann has had access to information that is of a sensitive nature -- it is partially why I allowed him to be assigned to such an important position...He is...problematic..."

Sarek took a short breath. Was T'Pau saying she had bribed Friedmann with a position of importance to buy his silence?

"Has he insinuated that he might attempt to blackmail us?" Sarek asked, internally beginning to fume.

T'Pau tilted her head. "It would be convenient if we were to discover some evidence of accounting malfeasance...Your continued scrutiny is welcome."

Sarek bowed his head. "If there is anything to be found, I will find it."

"I trust you will, Sarek, son of T'Don. T'Pau out."

Looking up, Sarek watched the subspace screen flicker to black.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

A few weeks later, Sarek found an oddity among the Embassy's real estate holdings. Josef had recently authorized repairs and renovations to a building that as far as Sarek could tell had never been officially occupied. Sarek decided to walk by and investigate. Inviting Amanda along seemed completely acceptable. He was scheduled to have his fourth meeting with her that day anyway, and he found her general knowledge of the city very helpful. Lately he'd decided going on local explorations with other Vulcans wasn't as interesting -- they seldom provided a perspective different from his own. Perhaps she could give him background on the general locale, its denizens, architecture and history from a human point of view?

With these thoughts in mind, he asked Amanda to meet him at the Southeast corner of Golden Gate Park.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

It was a bright, crisp October day. Amanda met Sarek at the chosen location a little perplexed. The last few meetings had been at indoor places. Warmer places.

After the customary Vulcan greetings, they walked down Lincoln Avenue, Golden Gate Park on their right, houses on their left. Sarek found clever ways to work all of her vocabulary words into the conversation. Whenever he used a word she hadn't yet learned, he'd pause and give her a chance to try to decipher it from the context. Once she'd guessed or he'd provided the meaning, he'd move on.

Usually Amanda was good for about forty-five minutes to an hour of this. But this particular day had been stressful. She'd gotten into an argument with one of the senior instructors at her school about the merits of flash cards -- she was pro, the other instructor was con. "Flash cards are boring; if these kids haven't picked up their multiplication tables by now, they'll never learn them," the instructor maintained. Amanda maintained this was tantamount to giving up on the kids she taught...and she didn't believe in giving up on her kids, no matter how disadvantaged their backgrounds.

"Okay, okay, stop!" she cried after Sarek had asked her a question that she was fairly certain had to do with the structural integrity of the local architecture. If she knew words to describe bricks and mortar and earthquake scales, they were certainly inaccessible to her tired brain at the moment.

 _"Amanda, it has only been forty-two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Are you certain you wish me to stop the lesson?"_ he asked in Vulcan.

"Yes!" She shook her head. "Why do I do this to myself?" she muttered.

"Do what to yourself?" Sarek asked.

Amanda rolled her hand in the air. "This. Vulcan lessons...grad school..." She sighed. She wasn't even in grad school yet and she was exhausted just preparing for it.

"I have no answer to that," her Vulcan companion said. "But I would be curious to hear your thought process on the matter."

Amanda sighed. "I'm sorry. I had a long day. A difficult day at work."

Sarek's head tilted. "You have said at times that your students are unruly. You have also said a graduate degree will give you access to any teaching position you would wish. Are you attempting to better yourself to find a more advantageous placement with more motivated students?"

"No," Amanda said. "No...that's not it. I love my students. They just happen to come from difficult backgrounds. They aren't taught good study habits at home..." She shook her head. "A lot of them don't even have two-parent households -- it puts a lot of strain on the single parent. There are exceptions to every rule, but usually the kids don't fare as well." She took a deep breath; she hated admitting her species' failings to a race known for its logic and perfection. "You probably don't have that situation on Vulcan."

Sarek was quiet for a moment. "It is a...deeply dishonorable situation...but it does happen."

Amanda nodded grimly. "Sometimes it is a matter of poor planning--" How many times had she met with young mothers who had thought they could shack up with a drug addict and change him? How many times had she encountered women who simply hadn't used birth control because...because...they were simply incapable of taking control over their own lives? So many seemed to live in a daze...

But...

"Other times, you know, bad things just happen to good people. The universe is very random..." She shrugged. How many Starfleet widows and widowers were in this town? She knew some of their kids. Even though they were slightly better off financially, it was still rough on the remaining parent. Providing emotional support for children was hard, even when you could tag team with a spouse. When everyone in the family was in grief...

"I never want to leave teaching my kids. Although I think my parents would like that," she said.

"Explain," Sarek said.

"Everyone in my family is doctors, lawyers, engineers and entrepreneurs. I don't think they ever imagined me teaching junior high...especially not the kids I teach."

"I had not realized parental opinion mattered so much to humans," Sarek said. "I was under the impression that human culture revolved around the pursuit of temporal happiness and personal self-gratification."

Amanda huffed a bit. "Of course we care about what our parents and family think -- or most of us do. And what is wrong about the pursuit of happiness --"

She stopped suddenly, seeing an advertisement for a high definition subspace channel receiver on a passing shuttle bus. The tag line was "Helping You Envision Happiness."

She swallowed. "Okay, most of our commercial culture sells happiness in the form of goods...and I can see where you get your idea that our pursuit of happiness might be shallow. But the truth of the matter is that most of us realize, at a certain point in time, that happiness isn't something you buy, or even something that you find by seeking it. Happiness is what comes to you when you're doing activities that you find important, engaging and meaningful...I find teaching children in inner city schools meaningful.

"Certainly you've noticed that human abilities vary a lot. We're still catching up from the Big Mistake...helping the people at the bottom reach their full potential is meaningful to me. I think it benefits all of humanity...not just my students."

The Vulcan was quiet. "Your motivations sound almost...logical. Perhaps you should continue along your current career trajectory without the distractions of furthering your education."

Amanda sighed. "No, no, no...if I think about it rationally, grad school and Vulcan lessons won't hurt my students. If I'm honest, I have to admit I like the mental challenge...and what I learn might actually enable me to better help my current students."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"That also sounds quite logical." Sarek looked down at the petite human walking next to him. Some of the topics of their conversation had been hitting a little too close to home. How would his son fare without him?

"Hey," she said, "and if I wasn't studying Vulcan, I wouldn't have gotten to know you better. It is really interesting getting to know someone who is...well...an alien."

"Agreed," said Sarek. The similarities and divergences in their cultures were quite interesting to scrutinize. It was particularly interesting that the pursuit of happiness, although seemingly illogical, had potentially logical underpinnings.

Amanda's eyes swept through an open gate and down a narrow road that led to a small house situated in the park. "I've always wondered about that house there...I wonder how the owners managed to get space on public land."

"Indeed," said Sarek. "I actually wanted to investigate this residence. It has been owned by the Vulcan Embassy since the Embassy was established here in San Francisco. But I can find no evidence of the building ever being occupied by any of the Vulcan staff, or even leased. Still, there were massive repairs and renovations authorized recently."

Amanda blinked at him. "Hmmm...well, when Vulcans first arrived we pretty much gave them anything they wanted...I suspect they've given them much more than private little cottages set off from the main road..."

Moving into the driveway, the human woman said, "There's a lot more land than actual house...it's actually hard to see it through the trees...Sarek, I think I see a maintenance truck up there."

She turned to him and smiled. "It's a cute little place...and it belongs to the embassy, and you work for the embassy...it couldn't possibly be construed as trespassing if we went to have a peek, could it?"

Tilting his head, Sarek pondered diplomatic immunity and local property laws. "I am not certain," he admitted.

"Good enough for me!" said Amanda turning and heading up the drive. "Oh...look, I think the front door is open."

Sarek hurried into step beside her.


	6. Insinuations

Sarek didn't just take Amanda's input on the Vulcan ambassador's 'much praised' sense of humor. He did a thorough literature review and discovered that unequivocally, her 'dry sense of humor' was regarded as a good thing by his human hosts. When he presented his findings to T'Pau, he was certain to point out that this 'native tendency' did apparently have a logical underpinning.

Listening across the subspace channel, T'Pau did not comment. When he was finished, she nodded. "We will take your findings under advisement. With the drought in our Southern Hemisphere, it is indeed important that relations with Earth are cordial."

It was important that they humor the humans, then...so to speak. Sarek looked down at the ground as that thought "popped into his mind." He, of course, did not say it aloud.

"And what of your investigations into the Embassy finances, and Mr. Friedmann?" T'Pau asked.

Sarek met T'Pau's gaze. "I have not found anything yet. He has been working as the Chief Financial Officer for three years, although he was employed below the last CFO -- a Vulcan, for five years before that."

"Yes, yes, I know," T'Pau said. "There is a lot of material to go through. Mr. Friedmann has had access to information that is of a sensitive nature -- it is partially why I allowed him to be assigned to such an important position...He is...problematic..."

Sarek took a short breath. Was T'Pau saying she had bribed Friedmann with a position of importance to buy his silence?

"Has he insinuated that he might attempt to blackmail us?" Sarek asked, internally beginning to fume.

T'Pau tilted her head. "It would be convenient if we were to discover some evidence of accounting malfeasance...Your continued scrutiny is welcome."

Sarek bowed his head. "If there is anything to be found, I will find it."

"I trust you will, Sarek, son of T'Don. T'Pau out."

Looking up, Sarek watched the subspace screen flicker to black.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

A few weeks later, Sarek found an oddity among the Embassy's real estate holdings. Josef had recently authorized repairs and renovations to a building that as far as Sarek could tell had never been officially occupied. Sarek decided to walk by and investigate. Inviting Amanda along seemed completely acceptable. He was scheduled to have his fourth meeting with her that day anyway, and he found her general knowledge of the city very helpful. Lately he'd decided going on local explorations with other Vulcans wasn't as interesting -- they seldom provided a perspective different from his own. Perhaps she could give him background on the general locale, its denizens, architecture and history from a human point of view?

With these thoughts in mind, he asked Amanda to meet him at the Southeast corner of Golden Gate Park.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

It was a bright, crisp October day. Amanda met Sarek at the chosen location a little perplexed. The last few meetings had been at indoor places. Warmer places.

After the customary Vulcan greetings, they walked down Lincoln Avenue, Golden Gate Park on their right, houses on their left. Sarek found clever ways to work all of her vocabulary words into the conversation. Whenever he used a word she hadn't yet learned, he'd pause and give her a chance to try to decipher it from the context. Once she'd guessed or he'd provided the meaning, he'd move on.

Usually Amanda was good for about forty-five minutes to an hour of this. But this particular day had been stressful. She'd gotten into an argument with one of the senior instructors at her school about the merits of flash cards -- she was pro, the other instructor was con. "Flash cards are boring; if these kids haven't picked up their multiplication tables by now, they'll never learn them," the instructor maintained. Amanda maintained this was tantamount to giving up on the kids she taught...and she didn't believe in giving up on her kids, no matter how disadvantaged their backgrounds.

"Okay, okay, stop!" she cried after Sarek had asked her a question that she was fairly certain had to do with the structural integrity of the local architecture. If she knew words to describe bricks and mortar and earthquake scales, they were certainly inaccessible to her tired brain at the moment.

 _"Amanda, it has only been forty-two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Are you certain you wish me to stop the lesson?"_ he asked in Vulcan.

"Yes!" She shook her head. "Why do I do this to myself?" she muttered.

"Do what to yourself?" Sarek asked.

Amanda rolled her hand in the air. "This. Vulcan lessons...grad school..." She sighed. She wasn't even in grad school yet and she was exhausted just preparing for it.

"I have no answer to that," her Vulcan companion said. "But I would be curious to hear your thought process on the matter."

Amanda sighed. "I'm sorry. I had a long day. A difficult day at work."

Sarek's head tilted. "You have said at times that your students are unruly. You have also said a graduate degree will give you access to any teaching position you would wish. Are you attempting to better yourself to find a more advantageous placement with more motivated students?"

"No," Amanda said. "No...that's not it. I love my students. They just happen to come from difficult backgrounds. They aren't taught good study habits at home..." She shook her head. "A lot of them don't even have two-parent households -- it puts a lot of strain on the single parent. There are exceptions to every rule, but usually the kids don't fare as well." She took a deep breath; she hated admitting her species' failings to a race known for its logic and perfection. "You probably don't have that situation on Vulcan."

Sarek was quiet for a moment. "It is a...deeply dishonorable situation...but it does happen."

Amanda nodded grimly. "Sometimes it is a matter of poor planning--" How many times had she met with young mothers who had thought they could shack up with a drug addict and change him? How many times had she encountered women who simply hadn't used birth control because...because...they were simply incapable of taking control over their own lives? So many seemed to live in a daze...

But...

"Other times, you know, bad things just happen to good people. The universe is very random..." She shrugged. How many Starfleet widows and widowers were in this town? She knew some of their kids. Even though they were slightly better off financially, it was still rough on the remaining parent. Providing emotional support for children was hard, even when you could tag team with a spouse. When everyone in the family was in grief...

"I never want to leave teaching my kids. Although I think my parents would like that," she said.

"Explain," Sarek said.

"Everyone in my family is doctors, lawyers, engineers and entrepreneurs. I don't think they ever imagined me teaching junior high...especially not the kids I teach."

"I had not realized parental opinion mattered so much to humans," Sarek said. "I was under the impression that human culture revolved around the pursuit of temporal happiness and personal self-gratification."

Amanda huffed a bit. "Of course we care about what our parents and family think -- or most of us do. And what is wrong about the pursuit of happiness --"

She stopped suddenly, seeing an advertisement for a high definition subspace channel receiver on a passing shuttle bus. The tag line was "Helping You Envision Happiness."

She swallowed. "Okay, most of our commercial culture sells happiness in the form of goods...and I can see where you get your idea that our pursuit of happiness might be shallow. But the truth of the matter is that most of us realize, at a certain point in time, that happiness isn't something you buy, or even something that you find by seeking it. Happiness is what comes to you when you're doing activities that you find important, engaging and meaningful...I find teaching children in inner city schools meaningful.

"Certainly you've noticed that human abilities vary a lot. We're still catching up from the Big Mistake...helping the people at the bottom reach their full potential is meaningful to me. I think it benefits all of humanity...not just my students."

The Vulcan was quiet. "Your motivations sound almost...logical. Perhaps you should continue along your current career trajectory without the distractions of furthering your education."

Amanda sighed. "No, no, no...if I think about it rationally, grad school and Vulcan lessons won't hurt my students. If I'm honest, I have to admit I like the mental challenge...and what I learn might actually enable me to better help my current students."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"That also sounds quite logical." Sarek looked down at the petite human walking next to him. Some of the topics of their conversation had been hitting a little too close to home. How would his son fare without him?

"Hey," she said, "and if I wasn't studying Vulcan, I wouldn't have gotten to know you better. It is really interesting getting to know someone who is...well...an alien."

"Agreed," said Sarek. The similarities and divergences in their cultures were quite interesting to scrutinize. It was particularly interesting that the pursuit of happiness, although seemingly illogical, had potentially logical underpinnings.

Amanda's eyes swept through an open gate and down a narrow road that led to a small house situated in the park. "I've always wondered about that house there...I wonder how the owners managed to get space on public land."

"Indeed," said Sarek. "I actually wanted to investigate this residence. It has been owned by the Vulcan Embassy since the Embassy was established here in San Francisco. But I can find no evidence of the building ever being occupied by any of the Vulcan staff, or even leased. Still, there were massive repairs and renovations authorized recently."

Amanda blinked at him. "Hmmm...well, when Vulcans first arrived we pretty much gave them anything they wanted...I suspect they've given them much more than private little cottages set off from the main road..."

Moving into the driveway, the human woman said, "There's a lot more land than actual house...it's actually hard to see it through the trees...Sarek, I think I see a maintenance truck up there."

She turned to him and smiled. "It's a cute little place...and it belongs to the embassy, and you work for the embassy...it couldn't possibly be construed as trespassing if we went to have a peek, could it?"

Tilting his head, Sarek pondered diplomatic immunity and local property laws. "I am not certain," he admitted.

"Good enough for me!" said Amanda turning and heading up the drive. "Oh...look, I think the front door is open."

Sarek hurried into step beside her.


	7. The Vulcans' Burden

 

Walking in step with Amanda up the driveway, Sarek was struck by the density of the trees around him. By Vulcan standards it was a jungle -- though he had seen pictures of Earth forests that could be penetrated only with the aid of land-clearing blades. He inhaled deeply, noting that Amanda did the same. The scent was slightly spicy...

"Eucalyptus trees," Amanda said. "They aren't native to this area, but they thrive."

The sun disappeared overhead behind the trees, and then Sarek noted the dappled sunlight spots on the ground beneath the trees becoming more muted.

"Fog's rolling in," Amanda said.

Sarek looked up at the sky; from what little he could see, the fog did, indeed, appear to roll.

His thoughts on the matter were interrupted by the voice of a man coming out of the house. "Hey, are you from the Vulcan Embassy?"

"He is. I'm just tagging along," said Amanda, responding to a short little man in some sort of coverall.

"I'm Don," said the little human.

Sarek nodded and stated his name.

Amanda smiled and gave hers.

"Nice to meet you. Well, just to let you know, I finished most o' the repairs. As you know, the roof needed to be replaced...just age," he said, gesturing at the top of the building. "Come in and see the rest..."

They followed him through a nondescript door into the small single story house. Like most houses in San Francisco, it was made of stucco.

Don gestured around the first room they entered. It was completely devoid of furniture; only a few pillows were on the floor. Sarek noted lights set into the ceiling. "Floors were getting old, and you know problems with termites in these parts. Replaced the floor; also some of the two by fours in the walls had to go. Called in an exterminator after T'Kela, your real estate manager, got approval for the expenses."

Leading them into another room where four heavy wooden doors sat propped against the walls, Don said, "What I wanted to talk to you about is getting some better locks put on the front door. The bedroom and bathroom doors were ripped off their hinges...I don't even know how...I mean, they were screwed pretty tightly into the two by fours beneath...I thought, you know, maybe the termites...but those two by fours behind these were fine..."

Sarek went up and examined the doors. One had a splintered hole that went all the way through at fist height. A human wouldn't have the strength for this kind of damage. But a Vulcan male...

Don kept talking. "Ripped clear out of the wall...and that one...well, I don't know, had to have been some sort of battering ram. That is a solid inch and a half of oak. I guess you guys had a break-in? I know you've got security...but, well, it must not have worked. If you ask me, you need a couple more good old-fashioned bolts on the door, and maybe some bars on the windows, too."

"Huh...kind of a rather Spartan bed on the floor in here," Amanda said from another room.

Sarek was beginning to have a sinking feeling in his stomach. He strode into the next room where she stood looking at a pallet on the floor. It looked exactly like the mat he'd woken up on after his pon farr but had a short wrought iron head and base boards with bars perpendicular to the ground bolted to the floor on either end.

"It's getting really foggy out there," Amanda said. Sarek lifted his eyes to see her staring out the window.

Following her gaze, he noticed he could not even make out the trees that surrounded the little house.

Noticing her body shiver, he turned his eyes back to her. She wore a high-necked sweater beneath a fitted, adequately warm coat, so it was not the cold that was affecting her.

She looked so much like a Vulcan on the outside. For two races who had spent over six billion years apart, humans were inexplicably Vulcan-like. Bipedal. Mammalian. Faces and limbs assembled almost exactly the same. Except for the round arch of the eyebrows and ears, Amanda could pass for a Vulcan woman...

But inside...her organs were arranged differently. Her lungs not as expansive. Her bones and muscles less dense...as much as she looked like a Vulcan female, she was much more fragile. Would a Vulcan in the heat of  _plak tow_  be dissuaded by her fragility?

"This place is creeping me out, Sarek," Amanda said.

He swallowed. It suddenly struck him that his people's great shame was also their great burden. His people had a duty to protect new species from the baser natures beneath their logic.

"I want to leave," Amanda said.

"Departing would suit me as well, Amanda."

He took a quick glance at the mat on the floor, and suddenly he remembered the image of T'Yavi's bruised and battered body...the pain she felt.

Turning back to Amanda, he noticed her body shivered again...but her feet did not move. She did not belong here. Something about the scene was troubling her; she did not deserve to be troubled by his people's failings. Putting a hand gently on her shoulder, he turned her and urged her towards the door -- acceptable physical contact to render a comrade in shock. He dropped his hand as soon as her feet began to move on their own.

"What about those extra locks and bars on the windows?" Don asked as they walked by.

Not stopping, Sarek responded, "Please consult T'Kela, the real estate manager." Then he halted. "Have you ever dealt directly with Josef Friedmann?"

"Who?" asked Don.

Sarek tilted his head....for a moment he had thought that Josef knew what the little house was for. But perhaps he did not...perhaps he just approved the expenses...or...was knowledge of this place and what happened inside something he used as a bartering chip in his dealings within the Embassy?

"It is of no concern to you," Sarek replied. "Thank you."

He took a few quick steps to catch up to Amanda. "You know," she said as he fell in stride with her, "this place is so far set back from the road...If you screamed back here, I don't think anyone would hear."

Sarek said nothing. That was, of course, precisely the idea.

"I'm cold...I'd really like to get a cup of tea," Amanda said.

"Let us go to the usual place," Sarek replied without really thinking about it.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The usual place was by Amanda's home. It was getting dark as she sat down inside with Sarek and pulled a mug of her favorite chai tea up to her nose.

Sarek was quiet. She wondered if he found the house creepy? Did Vulcans get creeped out? Just the way it was empty...and the way the fog rolled in, and suddenly feeling so secluded.

He obviously had understood her discomfort. She recalled his hand gently touching her shoulder. It might have been her imagination, but she swore she could feel the heat from it all the way through her coat.

Sipping her tea she asked, "So why do you think the Embassy keeps that house? It isn't extravagant...not a place for a diplomat, that's for sure."

Sarek didn't respond.

"Maybe they use it for a temporary residence occasionally," Amanda said.

"Something like that, I suspect," Sarek said, staring into his own tea.

"So, shall we set up a time to meet two weeks from now? Perhaps Wednesday?" the Vulcan asked, suddenly changing the subject.

"That sounds fine --" Amanda said. Then she was inspired. "You know, there is an exhibit of Muir Woods photography that is going to be displayed at one of the museums in town. It's supposed to look like a fairy land there; the trees have been morphed by radiation exposure. It's so bad the photographers had to wear hazmat suits."

She actually really wanted to go see the photos, maybe even pick up a book for the kids in her class with before and after shots of the forest. Some of them had never even left the city.

Sarek looked up from his tea. "That sounds...fascinating. It is set then; just send me the time and --"

"Oh...wait..." Amanda winced. "We have to make it Thursday. I have a date that Wednesday night..." She rolled her eyes. "I don't normally plan dates so far in advance but the guy travels a lot..."

"Thursday, then," said Sarek, not responding in any way to her declaration. Why had she suspected he would? He was a Vulcan; they didn't care about that sort of thing, did they?

She decided to prod just a little bit, just for fun. "Great...That way you can ask me questions about my hot date the night before."

"Hot date?" the Vulcan asked.

"Oh, I really don't know," said Amanda. "I've never met the guy."

"How does this relate to temperature?" Sarek asked.

Amanda laughed and launched into an explanation.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Sarek's next briefing with T'Pau occurred eight days, thirteen hours and twenty-seven minutes after his visit to the house with Amanda. Obviously, the building had a purpose. He was curious, though...

"T'Pau...does Mr. Friedmann have knowledge of the purpose of the home in Golden Gate Park?"

The subspace channel flickered briefly with static. T'Pau blinked -- whether from the interruption in the connection or his question, Sarek couldn't tell.

"You discovered the house's existence and determined its purpose, I take it?" T'Pau said.

"Yes, of course," Sarek said. "Is Friedmann using knowledge of what happens there to blackmail us?"

T'Pau blinked again. "With Josef Friedmann, there are...many concerns."

Sarek actually had something else to report to T'Pau. Something that he was certain would likely incriminate Friedmann. "I think I have discovered something that may potentially be accounting fraud..."

T'Pau leaned infinitesimally closer to the screen. "Indeed, Sarek? It would be most useful if we had the potential for jail time to hold against him."

Sarek caught his breath at this. If Josef had committed fraud, the logical thing to do would be to prosecute him and have him go to jail for his crimes...but T'Pau was talking of blackmail herself...

Of course, if Friedmann did know about Pon Farr, the risk of his exposing Vulcan's shame would make blackmail, though unseemly, a logical way to stop him.

"I discovered that from year to year the medical expenses vary widely. Obviously, this has to do with varying rates of births and illnesses among our small population here. But three years ago there was an enormous spike in the miscellaneous medical expense budget --"

"You will not investigate the 235,456 Terran credits of miscellaneous medical expenses incurred three years ago," T'Pau said.

Something was niggling at the back of his mind...an emotion he couldn't name...a desire to disobey...simply for his own curiosity. But it would serve no  _logical_ purpose. Obviously, T'Pau was informed...She knew the exact amount of the expenses in question. "As you instruct, T'Pau."

"Continue scrutinizing the books; if you find any other irregularities, inform me. But the expenses incurred three years ago are of absolutely no concern to you."

The spark of curiosity in Sarek's mind was bursting into a raging fire, and the desire to disobey fed the flames.

He would do his best to meditate it away.


	8. Touche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was one of my favorite chapters of the whole story...hope you enjoy.

The soft curve of the Sybock's cheek glowed in the sunlight pouring in the open window, one tiny pointed ear silhouetted against the light. The baby was sleeping and his mind was utterly blank in unconsciousness...

The mind, and the vision, were both beautiful to Sarek...but the conduit through which he saw the vision...

T'Yavi was disturbed...She did not see a child...she saw an empty shell of needs. A reminder of how weak she was...how she had caved. Received nothing. She was weak like the child. Guilt. Shame.

_T'Yavi..._

Sarek tried, like so many times, to call to her. But it wasn't a real bond. Just a shadow of a bond. There was no response.

He tried to remove himself from T'Yavi's feelings and focus on Sybock. The little one's breathing was regular, strong. Their child was well.

Sarek could have remained focused on the vision for hours, but his internal timer alerted him it was time to go. Letting his eyes flutter open, he focused on the incense burner in front of him and then stood to prepare himself for another day of work.

Mentally he noted that he also was scheduled visit the exhibit of Muir Woods photography with Amanda. At least he would have some mental stimulation in the day ahead.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

His work was not mentally stimulating. He was more than competent to deal with numbers in any form...but digging through endless line items in expense accounts and verifying electronic receipts was not precisely challenging to him. It was more of a challenge avoiding the temptation to uncover the source of that huge spike in miscellaneous medical expenses...he pushed it out of his mind...

...and then faced similarly inconvenient thoughts. It was logical to place him here. He was capable if not challenged. And it was useful for his family to keep him out of the way as T'Yavi spiraled downward. If he remained on Vulcan his failure to dissuade her from her irrational behavior would make her failure his own, and by extension his families -- even T'Pau would be tainted. She was most likely the one who insisted on the uniting of Sarek's and T'Yavi's clans...

Sarek's mother was right. T'Yavi really was too young. And her logic was not even strong for one her age. Her dabbling in the philosophies of the V'tosh ka'tur was evidence of that. She was helpless against her emotions.

And he could not fault her emotions. She had been used. By her family. By his family. By him. And now she felt used by Sybock.

Taking a deep breath Sarek dug back into line items in incidental expenses from a year prior. There was 300 Terran credits spent on flowers sent to commemorate the death of a Terran diplomat. Sarek confirmed that flowers were an appropriate bereavement gift, verified that they were delivered to the correct address, verified that the Terran in question had in fact died. And moved on to the next incidental purchase...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Amanda stared at the photograph. The photographer had used time lapse photography to capture Muir Woods at night. The camera was on the ground and showed a slight rise among the trees -- wickedly gnarled mutated giant redwoods that twisted to the sky like tangled curtains. On the ground were glowing spots of pale green; her electronic guide identified these as irradiated rocks.

Above the tree tops was the time lapse blur of stars in the sky. Floating amid the tree branches were glowing fireflies -- yellow, pink, green, blue and white lights on their abdomens. Some were apparently nearly as large as her thumb. Radiation's weird magic.

Sarek was next to her reading his electronic guide, something about the specific spot on the genome responsible for the fireflies' various colors. Ahh...the beauty of self-directed guides and tours. Each visitor could follow his own interest.

She studied his profile and her eyes were drawn, of course, to his lovely pointed ears. As much as his features were now famliar to her--as well as his near inability to keep his foot out of his mouth--the ears were still alluring...which reminded Amanda of something. The Muir Wood photos really did look like a pictures of fairy lands from old earth myths. She pulled up another picture on her electronic guide that showed just such an illustration...complete with elves...

"Explain." She had wanted to use his own brusque command against him for ages. She handed Sarek the guide with the illustration of the elf magnified on the screen. The picture clearly showed pointed ears...and somewhat less obviously, slanted brows.

Sarek glanced at the picture. "An illustrated picture of a Vulcan in unusual garb..."

"...it's from the 20th century, Sarek."

He blinked. "Perhaps it is mislabeled."

Ah, the joys of befuddling an astrophysicist.

"It's a picture of an elf," Amanda said. "Kind of strange that they look so much like Vulcans, don't you think?"

Sarek went into data bank mode. "An elf: one of a class of preternatural beings, especially from mountainous regions, with magical powers, given to capricious and often mischievous interference in human affairs, and usually imagined to be a diminutive being in human form; sprite; fairy...Vulcans are hardly diminutive..."

" _Usually_  diminutive...did you know there is an old Terran saying that says successful technology is indistinguishable from magic," Amanda said. "You know what I'm thinking..."

"Without a mind meld, no," Sarek replied, meeting her eyes.

Amanda almost laughed...but not quite. "Hey, you're getting this humor thing...you're smarter than I thought."

"You must not have thought much of me," Sarek responded, his voice so dry she could not tell if he was teasing her or not...

Two could play at this game. "I think I'll take that mind meld now."

"It was a comment, not an offer -- and are you serious?" Sarek asked, head tilted ever so slightly.

"No."

"Then why did you ask the question?" the Vulcan replied, his face ever impassive, his voice level.

"Because I'm teasing you," she replied.

Sarek, the walking dictionary, returned. "To tease: to irritate or provoke with persistent petty distractions, trifling raillery, or other annoyance, often in sport. This...conversation...is sport to you?"

Amanda had never thought of it that way. "I guess...yeah..." she grinned. "A sport for my brain!"

"So humor, in some forms, can be an intellectual exercise for the mind?" Sarek asked.

She felt herself smiling like a shark. The lure of low hanging fruit. "You know, I believe it is. But perhaps it is an intellectual activity beyond the prowess of Vulcans?"

Bouncing on the balls of her feet at the sheer audacity of that dig, she did her best not to laugh.

If she did not know better, she would have sworn that Sarek stood a little bit straighter than before...that couldn't be possible, could it? Vulcans had...hubris? Of course, that's what everyone said, but...

"I do not know why you didn't inform me before that it was an intellectual exercise. That would have lent weight to your argument that humor is a logical past time...And I very much doubt it is beyond my mental prowess. Especially, if the goal of this sport is to elicit an emotional response from me," Sarek stared hard at her for a moment, then moved to the next photo, this one of a glowing banana slug.

"Is that a land-dwelling mollusk?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Fascinating," Sarek said, leaning forward.

"He is kind of cute. Whether or not my teasing elicits an emotional response from you, if it makes me laugh, it's points for me."

Sarek straightened again and looked at her. "I would think that an emotional response from you would be points for me."

Amanda considered. "Perhaps a win-win then...But back to my original query...how could it possibly be that our fanciful notions of elves look so much like Vulcans? Any pre-reform shenanigans have you guys popping by for a visit or two?"

"Highly unlikely. If we had popped by in our pre-reform stage, Earth would be a very different place," Sarek replied, moving again to another photo.

"How so?" asked Amanda.

"Earth would most likely be under Vulcan domination," Sarek said.

...Of course, some people said this about Earth anyways...But Amanda knew he was referring to the near-mythical savage pre-reform Vulcan. She couldn't quite picture Sarek -- his nose at this moment nearly touching the next photograph--in any sort of emotional outburst, savage rage, or otherwise.

Drawing closer to the picture, she peered at what he was looking at -- a soft pinkly-glowing caterpillar sitting atop an enormous mushroom. Hello, Alice in Wonderland.

Raising an eyebrow, Amanda asked, "But how do you explain it then?"

"I have no explanation." Sarek said, tilting his head and leaning closer.

...and Amanda saw another opening. "Come on, doesn't that enormous brain of yours have any sort of imagination? Or is imagination, like humor, something Vulcan brains just don't have the prowess for?"

That was delicious, if she did say so herself.

Sarek drew himself up beside her. "You expect me to hypothesize with very little data," he said.

Amanda smiled. "Yes."

Sarek took a breath and looked away for a moment. "In human depictions of themselves and other bipedal sentient beings, I have noticed a tendency to artificially enhance and exaggerate certain features. Skin and muscle tone, mammary glands on females...I can only deduce it is because humans find these features more attractive." He looked down at Amanda. "Perhaps...Terrans simply find pointed ears to be aesthetically pleasing?" he asked.

Amanda felt herself go hot...that wasn't the answer she had expected...

"Your face appears to have acquired a slightly reddish cast, your mouth is open yet no words are coming out, and your breathing has changed...I believe this is evidence of an emotional response." He moved to the next photograph. "...and my point, I believe."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

They were in the museum's cafe. It overlooked a garden Amanda said was Japanese in style. It was getting misty outside once again. Sarek could feel the chill of the local atmosphere's moisture begin to sink through his clothes. Closing his eyes just a moment, he adjusted his internal thermostat.

 _"You have not asked me about my meetings to determine potential suitability for a life partner,"_ Amanda said suddenly in barely understandable Vulcan. " _There is no Vulcan word for_ date.  _I thought you might find my improvisational abilities fascinating."_

 _"Your improvisational abilities are acceptable -- I appreciate that you have gone out of your way to learn new vocabulary. But you must watch your prosody. Restrain your inflection to the first two syllables of every sentence,"_ Sarek replied, knowing she'd understand...as long as he spoke slowly...they'd been over this many times before.

Amanda took a sip of her tea.  _"Are you going to ask?"_

He was not that interested in this topic, but his dedication to his duty was foremost.  _"It would be wise for me to learn the local customs. Since I will probably be here for a while."_  His eyes went to the mist outside the window. How long?

Amanda began again in her oddly-inflected Vulcan.  _"Potential husband number one left me so mentally unstimulated I thought my eyes might leak."_ She switched to Standard, "We have an expression...bored to tears...I always thought it was a figurative expression." She switched back to Vulcan.  _"It can be true in the most literal sense. He talked about himself all evening. By the time he asked me about my life, I had lost the ability for all coherent speech. I was completely mute."_  She winked at Sarek and said in her own language. "I learned the Vulcan words for coherent and mute so I could tell you this story."

 _"I find it difficult to believe you could ever be rendered mute very long,"_  he said.

Amanda raised an eyebrow.  _"But not incoherent?"_

Sarek sipped his tea and decided not to respond.

 _"You are becoming more diplomatic,"_  Amanda said.

 _"A danger of my current occupation,"_  Sarek replied. He was not sure that it was a good thing to be diplomatic. Should not truth be first and foremost? He missed equations...

Amanda tilted her head. _"Potential husband number two..."_ Her voice drifted off.

 _"I was of the understanding you had only one meeting to determine the potential suitability of a life partner,"_ Sarek said. How many potentials did human go through?

"It was a spur of the moment thing," Amanda said in Standard. "I met him in the grocery store. He..." she looked away. "He didn't bore me to tears, but I didn't find him particularly interesting."

She took a sip of tea.  _"How do Vulcans determine potential suitability of life mates?"_  she asked in his language.

 _"Our parents determine suitability for us,"_  Sarek said, sipping his own tea.

"Oh. That sounds...not so great, actually," Amanda said.

"Your experiences do not sound...great," Sarek countered.

Amanda blinked. "Good point. So you reach a certain age and your parents set you up?"

"We are bonded when we are seven," Sarek said. His eyes drifted out the window again.

"Whoa...I thought that was a myth...You get married when you are seven years old...that is..."

Sarek turned to the human woman. The implication of marriage of seven year olds was...disturbing. "No, we are bonded to our future mates at seven years old. We marry later...it varies from couple to couple, but seldom before both partners are twenty-one years of age, and sometimes as late as seventy-seven."

"That still doesn't sound...I mean...having no choice in the matter...and having the choice made when you are so young..."

"Having a mate chosen for us gives us the freedom to focus on other matters...our occupations and fields of study. By the time marriage occurs, most Vulcans already have established careers and are able to support their children."

"That sounds very logical," the human woman said, her face as expressionless as a Vulcan. "Do you spend any of that time getting to know your mate...or is it a transaction between your parents..."

The idea of T'Sala as a transaction was...disturbing. "The bond that is established is telepathic. So we get quite a bit of time to know our future spouse...whether or not we are physically in each other's proximity."

But wasn't it a transaction, really? Sarek and T'Sala were well matched...but that was only incidental. T'Yavi and he...but maybe if there had been more time...

"Oh....so were you bonded at seven?"

Sarek could see where this was going. But to avoid the subject would be a failure of his emotional control. "Yes," he replied, carefully keeping his voice even but staring into his tea.

"Are you married?" Amanda asked. It was a simple, innocent question.

"No," Sarek replied.

"How old are you?" Amanda asked.

"Sixty-three," Sarek replied.

Amanda started to cough and Sarek looked up, relieved. "Are you unwell?" he asked, anxious to change the topic, but keeping his voice even.

"I'm fine...you just don't look...never mind. So you've been bonded for...fifty-six years?"

Sarek's universe was starting to collapse on itself...reducing itself to Amanda's innocent questions that hit him like physical blows. He did not want to discuss this. But it was simply a matter of facts. He could deliver the facts. This was a test of his emotional control. Dropping his gaze to his tea, he responded. "We were bonded for fifty-six years, yes."

"And sometime in the next fourteen years you will be married..." Amanda said.

"No." Did his voice sound sharp. He took a breath. "Your arithmetic is fine...but she is dead."

Amanda was silent. And the silence was a good thing. He turned all of his focus to his tea. Jasmine, she'd called it. It was most acceptable. He wrapped a hand around the cup, but noticed an ever so infinitesimal shake in his movements. He put his hand beneath the table and concentrated on the steam rising from the hot liquid.

"I'm sorry," Amanda said.

Sarek looked up, confused. "Why?"

She swallowed, "For prying...and...well, it's what we say to offer condolences."

"I see," he replied.

"What do Vulcans say to offer condolences?" Amanda asked.

 _"I grieve with thee,"_ Sarek responded.

Amanda's eyes looked like they were getting wetter, like they were in danger of leaking...had he insulted her somehow? Maybe she did not understand. "It translates to --"

"I understand...but...after fifty-six years of being telepathically connected..." She swallowed. "I don't think it is possible that I could truly understand your grief...."

Sarek took a deep breath. If he lifted his hands to the table they would shake. He stared into his cup. This was unseemly of him.

"Perhaps, Amanda, we may speak of other things?" It came out even...but too quiet.

Amanda audibly exhaled..."Um...yeah...of course." But she was quiet for exactly one minute and thirty-seven seconds. Finally she said quietly, "So, some people say that elves were pretty much like humans...but just...perfect."

An opportunity for intellectual exercise...it was hard for Vulcan minds to resist such a pull. And it was quite welcome...he had been right before; she was an acceptable sentient being.

Sarek kept his gaze down, but he did manage to say, quite evenly, and at normal volume, "Perhaps this lends credence to your theory that Terran elves were Vulcans?"

He looked up at Amanda. Her eyes were rimmed with moisture...but did not leak.

"You are really getting quite good at the repartee, Sarek."

"They do not hand out astrophysics degrees on Vulcan for nothing, Amanda," Sarek responded. He would master this game.

"Touche," she said softly. Point for him, presumably.

Yes, she was definitely an acceptable sentient being. Sarek was at last able to take a sip of his tea.


	9. Missteps

 

The rain pattered down on Amanda's umbrella; the pavement sparkled in front of her. Next to her, Sarek carried his own umbrella.

"Thank you for attending the lecture with me," Amanda said. She had a student in one of her classes undergoing experimental therapy for trisomy 21; she wanted to know as much as possible about it. It wasn't something that caught many of her friends' fancies, however. Sarek, on the other hand...

"It was a fascinating lecture, Amanda. I confess, I have not thoroughly researched the human genome. An oversight I intend to remedy immediately," Sarek responded.

Amanda lifted an eyebrow. "You might want to keep your focus on human culture..." He still had not mastered the art of keeping his foot out of his mouth.

"Indeed," Sarek said. His voice was flat, but she'd wheedled enough out of him over the months to realize that this was almost the equivalent of a sigh. Sarek missed being a scientist. He would never say as much, of course. He only said that he did not find his now vocation as mentally stimulating as his last. She hadn't divined precisely why he was here...why make an astrophysicist a diplomat? She knew the job had been assigned to him; it was not something he'd pursued on his own. Politics then...but why?

"The exhibit at the planetarium is closing this weekend, Amanda. Perhaps you would like to see it tomorrow?"

It was her turn to sigh. "I can't." She switched to Vulcan because it made this topic more entertaining.  _"I have a third meeting to determine the suitability of potential husband number seven tomorrow."_

_"I was under the impression that you found him to be less than fully compatible."_

_"Perhaps I am being illogically selective,"_ Amanda said. _"My mother has voiced this opinion."_

 _"Has your mother met the potential husband in question?"_ Sarek asked.

_"No."_

_"Then she is making a hypothesis without adequate data,"_ Sarek replied.

 _"As usual, your logic is impeccable,"_ Amanda replied, turning to cast a smile and a raised eyebrow in his direction.

 _"I am Vulcan. As they say...flattery will get you nowhere,"_  Sarek replied, meeting her gaze. His repartee had improved dramatically over the past few months.

She studied his profile as he turned back to face the street ahead. He was handsome...but...

Never chase after a man or a shuttle bus, she told herself. There is always another one coming...

Taking a slightly longing look at an upswept eyebrow, she was momentarily distracted. Her toe caught in a crack in the pavement and her body pitched off balance. For a moment she thought she would hit the ground, but Sarek had faster reflexes. Catching her arm, he steadied her, and then broke the contact as soon as it was no longer necessary.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her face going slightly hot.

He nodded, not looking at her.

"I'm not sure why I'm going on a third date with potential husband number seven," Amanda said -- mostly to herself. "I guess it's really a matter of a bird in hand being better than two in the bush."

"An idiom?" asked Sarek, still looking ahead.

"Of course, the real problem is, I don't want his bird anywhere near my hand and I certainly don't want it anywhere near my --" Amanda stopped herself.

"Pardon?" asked Sarek, now turning to look at her.

"Never mind," Amanda said.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Sarek sat in his apartment at his computer after reviewing the definition of the idiom "A bird in the hand..." He was having a bit more trouble with the second part of the curious conversation. There were several other definitions of bird that applied to nouns that would reasonably fit into a female human's hand. One such definition caused him to mentally hold back a rush of blood to his ears and made his vision go slightly green.

For the most part he kept his attraction to females in check. It was becoming more difficult, though. Especially with Amanda. It was, he understood, a natural reaction to his state of vulnerability. In approximately five years and two Terran months he would be in a mate or die situation again.

Unfortunately, his status as father of a bastard child and former bond mate of one who was on the path of the V'tosh ka'tur made it extremely difficult. And of course, his family would not settle for just anyone -- not until the last possible moment.

It would do no good to dwell. Taking a deep breath, he moved onto a pasttime he'd been pursuing lately in his free time.

Entering his quantum generated key and personal password, he logged in to the Embassy network.

Sarek had not investigated the mysterious medical expenses from three years ago. It would be a direct violation of an order...but...he had begun to investigate around the mysterious line item. On his own time of course.

Miscellaneous medical expenses included costs associated with shipping and distribution of medical supplies, plus the transport of individuals. Of these, by far the most expensive was transport -- particularly emergency transport.

Sarek went further back in the Embassy's history to review other examples of miscellaneous medical expenses in excess of 100,000 Terran credits before Friedmann had become CFO. There were many examples. He started with the most recent and worked his way back.

Four years ago there had been an epidemic; a Terran cold that gave humans the sniffles caused an excessive and deadly immunological reaction in Vulcans. Before a vaccine was developed five Vulcans had to be emergency evac'd back to the home world for emergency treatment.

Six years ago a Vulcan female researcher had developed complications due to a rare multiple pregnancy while she was in Antartica. Circumstances had prevented her from being beamed out of the location. A special shuttle had to be dispatched and she had to be ferried to a waiting ship and escorted back to Vulcan at Warp 7.

Eight years ago there was another spike in expenses. Sarek was just digging into what had caused this spike when his comm rang.

It was Amanda. How odd.

Switching his computer to comm mode, he answered the call.

Amanda met his eyes.

"Good evening, Amanda--"

"Sarek, tune in now to SSNN!" Amanda said.

"May I inquire --"

"No, just tune in!" Amanda said, her voice rising in volume.

Sarek opened the channel on his second monitor. The scene on the Sol System News Network looked like it had been recorded covertly on an amateur recording device. Sarek recognized the locale of the shot immediately. "The halls of the Vulcan Science Academy..." Sarek said. The scene didn't appear to be of an official gathering, just of a group of scholars talking.

"Shhhhhhh....listen..." said Amanda.

For a moment the other sound was the muffled noise of a microphone that must have been stowed in the fabric of clothing; then from off the screen came words in Vulcan,  _"The new method proposed by Terrans for dilithium crystal refinement is interesting..."_

All the words were translated into Standard by dubbing over the video. The camera spun around to catch the speaker, a younger Vulcan.  _"Especially when you take into account the inherent inferiority of human intellect..."_

The camera cut immediately to the SSNN news anchor.  _"The Vulcan speaking has been identified as Paumak, a member of T'Pau's reformed Vulcan High Command; currently Mr. Paumak has been part of the Earth-Vulcan trade talks. Let's turn to our Mutsuko Inoue at the University of Tokyo for some analysis. Mutsuko?"_

_"Sharon, currently Earth depends on Vulcan dilithium for Starfleet, Vulcan depends on Earth for its food -- this is more true than ever with the drought in Vulcan's southern hemisphere. However, with the advent of improved dilithium refinement capabilities on Earth, that trade balance has shifted. This could prove a serious misstep for the the Vulcans in their negotiations."_

_"Thank you, Mutsuko. And now to the solar weather report..."_

Sarek turned off SSNN and sat back in his chair, not looking at Amanda.

"Well?" she said.

Sarek tilted his head. "Paumak undoubtedly believes his statement is praise."

"What?"

Sarek blinked. "For the stage of development humans are currently in, it is an impressive development..."

"Well, he could have said 'stage of development' instead of inferior intellect," Amand said quickly.

"Indeed." It would do no good to argue that technically what Paumak said was true. Vulcan intellectual prowess -- memory, analytical reasoning, and mathematical ability were, on average, much higher than the average human's.

Humans were disturbed by having this inferiority pointed out. It was difficult to understand why. Certainly Paumak did not say humans were incapable of intellectual advancement. And wasn't it better to know one's failings so one could work to correct them rather than pretend they didn't exist? Isn't this what Amanda herself did by teaching disadvantaged children?

It was most illogical.

"Aren't you worried about Earth not wanting your dilithium?" Amanda asked.

Sarek knew about the new refinement process; it had been thoroughly covered in the Vulcan - Terran edition of  _Popular Mechanics_. "It would be illogical for Earth to no longer want Vulcan dilithium crystals. The crystals refined by this Terran process are of inferior quality to those produced on Vulcan. And the techniques used on my home planet cannot be replicated here because part of their success depends on the environment of Vulcan itself, gravity, low oxygen, relative lack of humidity and --"

"Sarek," Amanda said, "incidents like this can make humans very illogical. They may not care that our dilithium is of inferior quality...especially if more news like this comes out."

Sarek tilted his head. "That could prove extremely costly -- Terran crystals are not as efficient. More raw dilithium will be necessary. And warp efficiency will be compromised. This could be potentially dangerous in combat situations..."

"It could prove extremely costly to Vulcan as well. How many people are currently effected by the drought on Vulcan?" Amanda asked.

Sarek stared at the blank television screen. The drought was going into its third season. Rationing had already begun. No one was starving...but... "All of them..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x X

The Embassy was in high gear the next day. Vulcan had issued a statement saying that Paumak's statement was part of a private conversation and should not be considered official Vulcan policy. From his conversation with Amanda, Sarek knew this would not be enough. He'd sent a message directly to T'Pau voicing his opinion that an apology was in order. He had not received a reply.

T'Zena was in her office with several of the readers and Friedmann. Even from down the hall, Sarek caught snatches of Friedmann yelling in a language that might have been German.

At approximately 10:00, interoffice mail dropped off an old-fashioned Terran envelope on his desk. Opening it, Sarek found an elegant card inviting him to the United Federation of Planets yearly ball hosted by the local Federation office in exactly ninety-two days.

His stomach dropped slightly at the word 'ball'. That implied dancing, and he understood Terran dancing required touching.

At that moment T'Zena happened to be passing by his door.

"You have received an invitation to the yearly ball, I see." She tilted her head. "As you are a junior diplomat, it is intriguing that you have been invited. You must have interesting connections."

Sarek looked up at her but otherwise did not reply. Had T'Pau arranged for him to receive an invitation -- perhaps to monitor T'Zena?

"Do not be concerned by the word  _ball_ , Sarek," T'Zena said. "On Terra it is customary for the male to initiate dancing...so as long as you do not wish to dance, you will not be required --"

She stopped and drew straight up. Tilting her head, she said softly, "However, given the current state of Vulcan-Human relations, it might be preferable for you to engage some of the other guests in social activities as well as conversation."

Sarek felt his stomach drop. Her suggestion was entirely logical.

"Talk to Josef," T'Zena said. "The Embassy has a dance instructor we utilize for this sort of thing. Josef's assistant will be able to set you up with lessons." She tilted her head once more and then marched down the hall.

Sarek watched her perfectly-proportioned form disappear. He needed a bond mate...

And now he would be forced to endure...dancing...


	10. Most Eligible

"I request a different dance instructor," Sarek said.

Josef looked up from his PADD. "Did Madame Toullard grab your ass, too?"

It was 19:25 on the night of Sarek's first dance lesson. He had returned immediately to the office, knowing Josef would be there. Twenty-five minutes ago he had successfully fought back the urge to toss Madame Toullard across the room...now he was fighting off the urge to do the same to Josef. If nothing else, living among humans did provide ample opportunity to test one's emotional control.

Forcing his voice to remain even, Sarek responded. "You knew of her inappropriate behavior, and yet you sent me to her?"

Friedmann shrugged. "I thought she had good taste. Now I see it was just desperation."

Sarek tilted his head. "Insults will not compromise my emotional control. Now, is there another instructor I may deal with?"

"Not that I know of personally. Madame Toullard is really quite good, when she remains focused. She also taught the Ambassador," Friedmann said.

"I doubt she subjected the Ambassador to the same...affections," Sarek said, keeping his arms stiffly at his side.

Friedmann shrugged. "Hard to say. We humans can be lascivious." He looked back to his PADD. "I'm sure if you look online you'll find someone."

And then he sat up straight again and tapped a stylus against his desk. "Of course, they might not be any better. The best way to be safe is to get a partner."

"A partner?" Sarek asked.

Friedmann shrugged again. "Someone to make the instructor -- or other students if you go the group lesson route--think you're taken."

Then Friedmann's attention was diverted. Looking up quickly past Sarek he called out, "Amanda! Vulcan class just get out?"

Sarek turned. There was Amanda in the doorway, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"Hey, Sarek," she said stepping into the office. "Hi, Josef."

Sarek was illogically pleased that she greeted him first.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you," Friedmann said with a smile, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Sarek tilted his head, perplexed by the expression on Friedmann's face.

"They moved our class to the basement for a while," Amanda said with a shrug. And then she smiled wide. "I actually saw you, Mr. Friedmann, just this weekend. Only honorable mention? It's a shame."

"What?" said Josef, his smile vanishing, a furrow showing between his brows.

Amanda pulled a PADD from her bag, touched the screen a few times and began to read. "Since he would not return our requests for interviews, we were forced to take Josef Friedmann off of our list of San Francisco's Most Eligible Bachelors, but we couldn't resist naming him as an honorable mention..."

Standing up quickly, Josef walked around his desk to Amanda

Amanda seemed not notice. "...it takes chutzpah for anyone to talk Vulcans into letting them into a position involving numbers. That is just what Josef Friedmann has done. And ladies, with the Vulcan-to-Terran credit exchange rate being what it is..."

Snatching the PADD from her hands, Josef stared down and said in a low voice, "No one talks Vulcans into anything illogical...and I told them I did not want my name in here..."

Tilting his head, Sarek scanned his mental dictionary. Chutzpah; the quality of audacity, for good or for bad, derived from the Hebrew word huspa meaning "insolence", "audacity", and "impertinence." Audacity, insolence and impertinence were negative traits...but humans believed they could be good or bad. What an ambiguous word. And alien concept.

...and apparently Terrans themselves thought it was something other than merit that got Friedmann his position.

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest. "Huh. I thought you'd think it was funny."

Clutching the PADD so tightly his knuckles were white, Josef muttered, "Disrespectful." His brows knit tightly together.

Sarek stared at the man, triply annoyed--annoyed that Friedmann had received honorable mention as 'Most Eligible Bachelor,' annoyed that Amanda knew this, and annoyed that he was annoyed about two things that were completely inappropriate to be annoyed about.

From beside Friedman's desk, Amanda said suddenly, "Oh, hey, you were invited to the Federation Ball. Me, too..."

"Really?" Sarek and Josef both said in unison. Sarek's eyes slid to look at the human man...and found Josef eying him, too.

"Well...my invitation was second-hand." Amanda said, picking up the card and examining it. "My parents are friends with the Senator from the North American Northwest Province and the Senator's sending his son...and his son needed a date...so I'm going..." She looked up at Sarek and said in Vulcan,  _"Potential husband number nine."_ Then she laughed and switched to Standard. "That sounds so much funnier in Vulcan--I guess because you don't go shopping for your mates?"

...last time they had talked she'd only been up to potential husband number seven. It had only been a week.  _"Potential husband number eight came and went quite quickly,"_ Sarek said.

"Well, it's quite an honor to be invited to the Federation Ball...Potential husband number nine sounds quite promising," Friedmann said in Standard, looking between the two of them.

Amanda huffed. "His father was invited...and is sending his son instead, which I think sounds like a snub from said senator...and I don't think just being the son of a senator is indicative of any sort of promise."

"I like your thinking," Friedmann said, the corners of his lips beginning to twitch upwards.

She huffed again. "Whenever our parents got together I had to endure his company when we were kids. He called me Bug Eyes."

"What is this charming gentleman's name?" asked Friedmann with a definite smile.

Putting the invitation back on Friedmann's desk, Amanda sighed. "Jason Ethridge. I'm only doing this to make my parents happy." Shaking her head she said, "And what about you, Mr. Friedmann? Anyone you're taking to the ball?"

Pushing up his glasses, Friedmann said, "Well, so far, my only company is Sarek here."

Sarek turned his head sharply to look at the other man.

"I had no idea you guys were so close..." Amanda said with a smile. Then her eyes got wide. "Sarek, will you dance?"

"That is currently in question," Sarek responded, turning away from Friedmann again.

"Hmmmm...it might help with interplanetary diplomacy," said Amanda with a smile. "May I have my PADD back, Josef?"

Handing the PADD back to her, Friedmann said, "Or hurt interplanetary diplomacy."

Sarek turned his head sharply to the human again.

"Well, you won't get any mockery from me, Sarek. My ballroom dancing skills are really rusty," Amanda said, putting the PADD into her bag and stepping towards the door. "I need to get home now. See you both later."

Sarek watched her exit the room. Turning back towards Friedmann, he noticed the other man's eyes had been following her as well.

Walking back to his desk, Friedmann said, "What you need is a partner."

x x x

Staring at his computer monitor later that evening in his apartment, Sarek steepled his fingers. Whenever miscellaneous medical expenses exceeded 100,000 Terran credits, transportation was the culprit. Eight years ago was no exception. The Embassy's own starship had been engaged, but he could not access its manifest. By the amount of anti-matter and matter purchased, Sarek could see either many passengers had been transported, probably beamed directly to the ship, or the ship had taken a few passengers a long distance.

He'd run through every news source available from two years ago. There was no report of any epidemics. A few Vulcan babies had been born, but all in Embassy or consulate med centers without complications. Perhaps someone had been severely injured, or there had been a serious illness that required a Vulcan transported back to the home planet for treatment? But why was that not clearly indicated?

Dropping his hands to the keyboard, he began devising a query to pull up every instance of the Embassy starship being engaged for medical purposes. There were over three hundred results. He ran a query on these results to see how many of these trips did not have an accessible manifest.

In over one hundred years there had been fifty such incidents--the episode eight years ago that he had just been researching...and three years ago as well.

Sarek sat back in his chair. One missing manifest was an oversight. Fifty was a definite pattern.

He was not supposed to be investigating this...However, he was doing it on his own time...He had not been told specifically to ignore the other incidents of high expenses.

He needed to get the Embassy ships' manifests. But how?

His concentration was interrupted by notification that Amanda had just sent him an email. He clicked to see what she had sent.

_Sarek,_

_There is a lecture at UC San Francisco on comparative Vulcan-Human fetal development. Do you want to go?_

Did he want to go? Was the force of gravity on Earth 9.81 m/s2? Sarek blinked at his own mental indulgence in a rhetorical question. Fascinating.

He read on:

 _It's one week after the Federation Ball. Can't wait to see you_ *there _* twinkletoes. At least I won't be the only bad dancer making a spectacle of myself._

_Amanda_

Sarek's stomach constricted to a tight ball. There were few things that Vulcans liked less than being made a spectacle...

...except unwanted hands in unwanted places as had occurred with Madame Toullard earlier that day...Sarek found himself suppressing a non-affectionate growl.

He looked again at Amanda's message. A solution to his inability-to-dance crisis and Madame Toullard's unwelcome advances?

He dropped his fingers to the keypad and began to type a response...and an invitation.


	11. Dancing Around the Subject

 

It was Sunday, mid-morning a week and three days after Sarek's first uncomfortable dance lesson.

He sat in his apartment staring at his monitor. He had discovered a way to determine the destination of the Vulcan Embassy ship even when there was no accessible manifest...and if not the exact names of the passengers, perhaps an idea of their numbers.

The Embassy vessel could not launch from the lower atmosphere, so it remained permanently docked at a space station just off planet. All passengers had to be beamed aboard or ferried there by shuttle.

Space station records of shuttle and ship departures and arrivals were public record -- although they were not easily accessible, he'd have to go to the space station itself and request the information in person -- and to do that he had to first request an appointment. Then he could cross reference the Embassy records of uses of its vessels with the records from the station and by process of elimination determine what its destination had been.

Further, on Earth, all authorized transporter usages were recorded as well, and also available for access. Again, not easily, he would have to report to the Transporter Records Department in Lisbon to gain access. He didn't sigh; it would be unbecoming of a Vulcan, even alone...But why was information so hopelessly decentralized on Earth?

Navigating to the appointment request form for the space station records department he paused a moment. The form asked if his request was for an agency or an individual inquiry -- agencies were given priority. He hesitated and the selected individual inquiry. It was the honest response...he might have said agency and let them know of his affiliation with the Vulcan Embassy, but since this investigation wasn't officially sanctioned...

Also, he didn't want to call attention to himself.

He hit the submit button and was promptly given a date eighty-nine days away.

His internal alarm clock went off. It was time to meet Amanda for his second dance lesson -- and first with her. He suppressed another very un-Vulcan sigh.

x x x

They were not at Madame Toullard's. Sarek had sought out a new instructor, a Mister Julio Hernandez. He came highly recommended online. After one brief unexpected moment of hand to hand contact, Sarek was very glad to have Amanda...Mr. Hernandez's physiological reactions to Sarek were very much the same as Madame Toullard's were. Granted, Mr. Hernandez might display greater restraint...but he might not...Sarek saw no reason for undue risk.

Amanda and Sarek were practicing the basics of the Foxtrot. Sarek was also practicing keeping his eyes carefully averted from Amanda. He had never seen Amanda in so little clothing. Whenever they met, she was normally attired in a sweater, long pants and jacket, with sensible low-heeled boots or shoes on her feet. He'd thought of her as modest.

Apparently it was just an accommodation she made for San Francisco's perpetually cool weather. Today she wore snug jeans with high heels. Her heels did interesting things to her gluteal muscles and superficial fascia in that region -- and the jeans didn't hide it. She also wore a sleeveless tee. Her hair was pulled back with clips that left the whole of her neck exposed. It was a very long, pale, slender, elegant neck that descended into graceful clavicles...

Sarek caught his eyes wandering and averted his gaze. When he returned to his home world he would have super-Vulcan powers of self control.

"Good, job, good job. You are doing wonderfully!" Mr. Hernandez called. "Keep practicing for the remainder of the number. Sarek, do not forget to rotate your body and your partner's; there is no need to be so stiff; alter from your straight line! On the ballroom floor you will have to dodge other couples."

Sarek did not sigh. But he had the compulsion. On the real dance floor not only would he be expected to maintain his mental shields, avoid ogling his partner, and keep time, he'd also be expected to navigate around moving obstacles.

"Sarek," Amanda whispered, "aren't Vulcans touch telepaths?"

Would he have to maintain a conversation as well? "Yes," he replied, not looking down at her.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry then," Amanda said.

Sorry? Sorry for what?

"It's just that you do look really handsome right now."

What? Sarek's shields fell like a curtain and suddenly he was aware that Amanda was finding dancing with him...arousing...

Although at least her hands were staying where they belonged.

He felt himself go hot.

"I hope it's not too distracting," Amanda said, and Sarek could feel some  _embarrassment_  along with the  _arousal._

She was apologizing for being attracted to him and revealing it through the telepathic link. He appreciated the sentiment, actually. Of course, she had never been taught to block her emotions.

"Do not concern yourself. You are only human," Sarek said.

The arousal vanished and was replaced with annoyance. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Sarek blinked and actually looked at her trying to keep time as he did. "It only means that as you are human you are unable to help yourself from--"

The telepathic connection burned with anger. "Unable to help myself? Do you think you are God's gift to womankind or something?"

Sarek blinked. "Vulcans do not conceive of God in the way that humans --"

Amanda's foot came crashing down on Sarek's toe. Through the link Sarek could tell it had not been an accident.

"Ms. Grayson, you seem to have lost the beat there," said Mister Hernandez.

"Ohhh...it appears I did," Amanda said. "I'm so sorry, Sarek." She smiled. "I hope it didn't hurt."

Sarek completely lost time and came to a full stop. She was lying. With a smile.

"It is quite alright," he said at last, tilting his head and stepping back into time with the music.

For the rest of the hour she remained annoyed. He was perplexed as to what exactly he had done and how he could fix it. However, her annoyance was a lot easier to deal with than her arousal might have been.

And her hands never went any place inappropriate.

x x x

Walking out of the classroom, Amanda felt her temperature rise. "What the Hell was that all about in there, Sarek? You don't really think that you're all that, do you? Because that would be completely illogical!"

Sarek came to a stop in the hallway next to her. "Think that I am all what?"

"The be all and end all!" Amanda put her hands on her hips. Sarek stared at her blankly.

Amanda closed her eyes. Do not stomp on his toe again...Do not stomp on his toe again...

"You seem to think that you are irresistible to human women," she snapped.

"Certainly not; you seemed quite capable at resisting me even though you did find me...attractive," Sarek said. "And I appreciate your restraint a great deal."

Amanda fought back an urge to slap him. Damn telepathy, and damn smug, telepathic and attractive Vulcans...

"I don't think I can handle dancing with you when I'm so angry I want to kick you in the shins!" she said.

Blank stare.

"I don't think this is going to work..." she said.

Sarek looked down. "Amanda, I do appreciate your company a great deal."

Amanda took a step back and tilted her head. "Why, do you get off on having humans finding you attractive?" she snapped.

"Pardon?" asked Sarek.

Amanda took a deep breath. He didn't understand. "Why?" she asked.

"Why...did I say pardon?" asked Sarek.

Were they even speaking the same language? "Who is on first!" Amanda said throwing up her arms. Then silently she cursed herself for using a reference from her early twentieth century humanities class.

"Who is on first?" asked Sarek.

"Never mind who is on first, Sarek." Amanda put her hands on her hips. "Why do you appreciate my company?"

"Because I trust you. I do not believe you will act inappropriately. In addition I believe your presence will compel others to behave in an appropriate manner," Sarek responded in his normal flat monotone.

He trusted her. Well that was nice...but wait...Sarek didn't do psychology, at least, not well...why would he think that an 'other' might behave inappropriately...and what other? "Sarek," she asked, "Did something happen?"

x x x

"...she was demonstrating the improper way for the man to hold his partner..."

They were eating sandwiches at a diner close to the studio. Amanda had a hand over her mouth and was leaning forward, not making a sound...for a moment Sarek worried he might have to perform the Heimlich maneuver.

Then she burst out laughing.

At him.

"You find this amusing."

Amanda straightened. Sniffing, she rubbed her nose. "No, I..." She began laughing again.

Cutting a bite out of his avocado, sprout and hummus sandwich, Sarek sat and watched. He would not allow her to see his annoyance.

"I'm sorry. Really, it's terrible...terrible..." Amanda said. She wiped what appeared to be a tear from her eye. His plight moved her after all.

"I'm sure that you wouldn't have the same problem with Julio though, Sarek," Amanda said. She looked down at her sandwich and silverware -- she'd taken to using a knife and fork in front of him after learning just how Vulcans viewed eating with their hands. "I mean, I got the feeling that he went that way...just the way he was looking more at your...however, it doesn't mean he'd act on it."

"You determined his sexual orientation by observation alone?" asked Sarek, impressed.

"I did not determine; I have only made a hypothesis," said Amanda.

"I can confirm your hypothesis," said Sarek.

Amanda looked up from her plate. "He hit on you, too?"

Sarek blinked. "No, he touched my hand." He put another bite of sandwich in his mouth. He'd developed quite a predilection towards avocados during his time on Earth. It was a shame they took an inordinate amount of water to grow.

Amanda heaved a long sigh. "It's not fair, for me or Julio. You can hide your emotions from us, but we can't hide ours from you."

Sarek put his fork down. Vulcans went to great lengths to suppress their emotions -- before coming to Earth he interpreted human society to be exactly opposite. But depending on the situation they did keep their emotions contained. Suppressing everything but curiosity was just so much more clear cut...

...Amanda was embarrassed; he'd made her uncomfortable for something she couldn't control.

"I do not read emotions intentionally, Amanda. I try to block my telepathic abilities, but it takes conscious effort. I only read Julio because he touched my hand unexpectedly. And I was blocking your emotional state until you surprised me with your directness."

Amanda sat back in her chair. "So I gave myself away." She brought a hand up under her chin. "Of course, we'd talked about other things before that point...was that the first time that you weren't able to block my emotions?"

"Yes," Sarek said, attention returning to his cutting his sandwich into bite size pieces.

"So obviously, saying I found you attractive was more disconcerting than, say, talking about the weather...why is that, I wonder?"

Sarek looked up at her. "No Vulcan would ever make such a declaration. Your forthrightness was --"

"Uh-huh. Whatever." She leaned forward, put her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. "So tell me, Sarek, do you find me attractive?"

Sarek was grateful for the fact he was not actually chewing anything at that moment. He might have spit it out of his mouth.

"This line of inquiry is completely inappropriate, Amanda." He tilted his head. "And the answer is of no relevance to anything." It wasn't as though they were potential mates. They could not be. There could be no offspring...and she was entirely too fragile, physically and perhaps mentally as well. Could a human handle a Vulcan bond? Who knew? Perhaps it would induce madness in one or both parties.

"That isn't an answer. You know my emotions; it only seems fair I know yours." She leaned closer to him and smiled. "Come on, I'm trying to level the playing field."

"The playing field?" He knew the expression. They'd discussed it weeks ago. "This is a game?" His tone was completely even. He'd used the same words and tone when she'd introduced him to Scrabble. But he felt a rush of revulsion. She was teasing him...about something they should not even allow their minds to dwell on.

Amanda leaned forward. She licked her lips, which accentuated their curve. How Vulcan they were. Opening her mouth, she looked as though she were going to say something. And then she stopped and pulled back.

"No, I'm sorry, Sarek. I'm treating you like a human. You're not."

He blinked. She'd backed down, something she never did when they engaged in 'teasing'. And she'd stated the obvious. He was not human. This line of inquiry was irrelevant; her tacit acknowledgment of this fact should make him feel better. But it did not.

"Forgive me?" Amanda asked.

To say he forgave her would be to acknowledge the injury, that she had provoked an emotional response. She had been treating him as one of her own kind. It hadn't been meant as an insult, surely. "There is nothing to forgive," Sarek responded. It wasn't precisely a lie.

On the wall adjacent to them, a large screen monitor went on. Someone in the diner was switching it between channels.

Suddenly T'Zena's voice filled the room.  _"...it is not just Terran food that aids Vulcans. It is their ideas. Humans are a young, inquisitive race, unafraid to ask why. I believe that this curiosity, even when it challenges the preconceived notions of Vulcan, is healthy for us..."_

Sarek turned to see the screen change from T'Zena to a news room.  _"And that was a portion of the Vulcan Ambassador's apology here on Earth a few weeks ago. As I'm sure everyone remembers, it was quite well received here. But how was it received on Vulcan? We go now to our correspondent, Brent Tucker. Brent?"_

_"Lisa, here I am on the streets of Shi'Kahr. I've been trying to get some response from ordinary Vulcans, but so far none will answer my questions, even anonymously."_

The camera changed to a view of Vulcans walking by Brent as he attempted to engage them in conversation.

Next to Sarek, Amanda whispered, "Why won't they talk, Sarek?"

Sarek did not turn towards her. "Because they do not wish to say anything that may contradict the stance of the High Command. Vulcans value discretion."

_"However, we were able to obtain this independently recorded video, Lisa."_

The picture became less distinct and choppy, but clearly showed Vulcans, obviously on their home world, and obviously wearing robes of high station. The Vulcans were speaking Sarek's native language, but the video was dubbed in Standard.

"The Terran reaction to Paumak's statement was completely illogical. By most objective measurements they are intellectually challenged when compared to Vulcans..."

The camera shifted to a split shot of Lisa and Brent. Lisa was talking.  _"This comes at the worst possible time for Vulcan, doesn't it Brent?"_

_"It does indeed, Lisa. Vulcans do not need any more negative publicity. Vulcan's drought is going into its third growing cycle and currently trade talks are underway for Earth food stuffs. And pressure is mounting from various groups to make it more difficult for Vulcan to import food from Earth."_

_"That's right. Most recently it has been environmental groups to raise their voices against the off world shipment of food. Can you explain that Brent?"_

_"Certainly. When we export food we are exporting water from our biosphere. There are trace amounts of H2O in all food, unless it is specially dehydrated -- simply turning grapes to raisins isn't enough. This is water Earth's biosphere will never reclaim. Environmentalists say we risk desertification of Earth by exporting our foodstuffs off world. Moreover, we are also exporting our carbon, and no one knows what the consequences of that will bring..."_

Someone flipped the channel to soccer.

Amanda stared at the screen. "You know, Sarek, I want to say that for a race that values discretion, Vulcans sure have a talent for inserting their feet in their mouths..."

Sarek swallowed and turned to her. "We seem to be very flexible in that regard," he said, trying to make up for some of their previous tension with humor.

"But in this case, it almost seems like someone is trying to set Vulcan up..." Amanda's eyes hadn't left the monitor. "It's not like Terrans don't say bad things about Vulcans. But they're not showing that on the nightly news."

"Indeed," said Sarek. In the end he believed it would not matter. The Federation would never allow Vulcan to starve. There might be rationing for a while...but the Federation would sort things out...


	12. Inauspicious Beginnings

 

Sybock was fussing, wanting attention. Sarek could see him through the fractured bond.

T'Yavi was irritated. Sarek tried to push it aside, tried to just enjoy observing his baby boy.

Sybock had grown so much. He was sitting up now on his own. Could he crawl? Could he walk?

T'Yavi handed Sybock a strange cylinder. It was only as big as the baby's tiny fist. Sybock examined the cylinder, turning it over and over again, and then suddenly the cylinder became a ball. Sybock's eyes went wide. Sarek himself was surprised. Sybock's hands disappeared  _into_  the ball.

Sybock's hands twisted and the shape changed to a baby sehlat.

A hologram. T'Yavi had gotten Sybock a hologram-generating device. They were rare and quite expensive...

Sybock was mesmerized by the hologram and T'Yavi turned away from him.

Sarek found himself staring into the eyes of a Vulcan male he did not know...

_No, T'Yavi, Sybock is there..._

But Sarek's mind was mute in hers.

Reaching out, the man brought his fingers to T'Yavi's psi points.

She wasn't bonded to this other male; somehow Sarek knew this...

_T'Yavi don't..._

And suddenly T'Yavi and Sarek were filled with the images of all the things that strange Vulcan male wanted to do to her...

Sarek came out of meditation gasping, his stomach a jumbled confusion of jealousy, protectiveness and anger. He had heard that the V'tosh ka'tur sought out sensation in all its forms.

Chest heaving, he tried to center himself...T'Yavi was not his...but he still felt some concern for her. And wasn't Sybock his no matter what the law said? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Warmth hit him all of a sudden. He opened his eyes to see the afternoon sun had shifted and was now pouring through his window onto him. Normally, he did not meditate in the middle of the day, but today was Saturday, traditionally a human day of rest, and tonight he had the Federation event to attend. He needed to be mentally prepared for dancing...this meditation session had hardly helped.

Swallowing, Sarek looked over to where the tuxedo hung on his door. T'Zena had insisted that tonight they would honor all Earth customs.

Standing up, Sarek made his way to the shower.

x x x

The Sol System News Network was droning from the other room as Amanda picked up her shawl.

_"By shipping our food off world, are we turning Earth into a desert planet -- like Vulcan? Special report at 10 PM and 2 AM."_

Walking into the living area, Amanda looked at herself in the mirror. She'd picked the cream-colored dress out with her mother -- or her mother had picked it out for her. Amanda's mother was very excited about her attending this ball. They weren't best friends, in fact they lived in different parts of the country, but Amanda's mother had known Jason's mother for a long time.

And her mother had definitely gone all out on the dress Amanda now wore. Amanda was almost shy about wearing it.

"Wow, you have boobs!" her roommate Carrie said, hopping up from the couch and flicking off the news

Amanda winced. The dress gave her definite decolletage. "Do you think it's too much?"

Carrie rolled her eyes. "No, it is not too much. You look beautiful, Amanda. Potential husband number nine won't know what hit him...and if you don't like him, at least you'll have one of the most eligible bachelors in San Francisco to charm."

Amanda sighed and rolled her eyes. Ever since she told Carrie she knew one of the men on The List, Carrie had given her a hard time about it.

It was just then that the door chimed. "I'll get that," said Carrie.

Amanda gave herself one last look in the mirror. The dress was ankle length and fitted. It did have straps...but not much more than that on her upper half. The plunge in the front was far surpassed by the plunge in the back.

At that moment Carrie escorted Jason into the room. Amanda blinked.

Well, at least he was handsome...sort of. He had the good looks that came with money, she decided. Jason was maybe a centimeter shorter than Sarek. He had light brown hair and skin tanned to match, gray-blue eyes beneath nearly perfectly groomed hair, and a chiseled nose and chin that were much straighter than she remembered...she wondered if he had had plastic surgery...then chided herself. Not a charitable thing to think about anyone.

Jason wore a tux, of course, black jacket and pants, red collar tie without a bow, just two gold buttons set fashionably a little off center, and matching cummerbund.

"Amanda," he said, giving her a cocky sideways smile. "Wow, you look a lot better than I expected."

Well...that could have been better...but also much worse. "Likewise," she said.

x x x

"So, what do you do that you have to have a roommate?" Jason asked when they were in his car.

"Well, I'm a teacher--"

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Jason said, speeding up to go through a light...it had been red before he crossed the intersection, Amanda noted.

"And Carrie is working on her doctorate in history," Amanda said.

"So, not a lot of ambition in your house," Jason said.

Amanda took a deep breath. This is the son of your parents' friends; be polite. "I think we are ambitious in our own ways," Amanda replied.

"Hmmm...yeah," Jason said, looking into the rear view monitor. "So this is probably the first time you've ever been around aliens, right?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I happen to have spent a fair amount of time around Vulcans." Well, one Vulcan. And it depended on how you defined a fair amount. Lately, they'd been together at least once a week because of dance lessons...but usually only once every other week for two hours or so.

"Vulcans?" said Jason.

"Yes, I'm going to go to grad school and comparative Vulcan-Human studies dominate my field --"

"Yeah, well you won't have to worry about that for too long. We'll be out from under the Vulcans' thumb soon enough." Jason hit the accelerator and they ran through another light.

Amanda swallowed.

"So, this thing is going to be at the Ritz-Carlton. I got a room upstairs, by the observation deck. Feel free to drink as much as you want. You can crash with me."

Amanda clenched the tiny purse she was holding. Thankfully she'd brought enough money for cab fare.

x x x

Jason handed her a drink as they waited in the grand lobby for dinner to be served. "Amanda, this is Ross. He's the son of the senator from the Northeast province, and this is Asha, daughter of the senator from the Indian subcontinent."

Amanda blinked at the two bored-looking twenty somethings...apparently the Ethridges weren't the only ones sending their spawn to this event.

"Your dad propose the bill yet?" Ross asked Jason.

Jason drained his wine glass. "Not yet, but I think next session."

"About time," said Asha.

"Bill?" asked Amanda.

"To make it illegal to ship food stuffs off world," Jason winked. "You know, for environmental reasons."

"Vulcan is in the middle of a drought," Amanda said, aghast.

"Bing! Bing! Bing! Points for the lady!" said Ross with a smile.

"The senate will never accept that..." said Amanda.

"Don't be so sure," said Asha with a conspiratorial smile in Ross' direction.

"And even if they do, the Federation will never allow it," said Amanda.

"What will they do?" Asha asked. "At most an embargo. We have our own dilithium refineries now. And we have enough food and water --"

"Our dilithium crystals aren't as good," Amanda protested. "It would be expensive, not to mention dangerous for the men in our fleet --"

"They'll survive," Asha shrugged.

"No, actually, they might not," said Amanda. This topic was hitting close to home. She did know someone in the Fleet. They weren't together anymore, but...she swallowed. "And what about the Vulcans?"

"You worry too much," Jason said.

Ross took a sip of a martini. "They won't starve. They're phenomenally wealthy; they'll find some way to get the food they need from someone."

"But we'll take them down a few notches," said Asha.

"Here, here!" said Jason.

x x x

Somehow Amanda managed to make it through dinner with Jason, Ross, and Asha. She'd tried several times to catch a glimpse of Sarek, or Josef...but the party was immense and she hadn't seen them.

Now the meal was over and dancing had begun, but Jason seemed only to want to drink.

Amanda looked down at the wine he'd procured for her. She hadn't touched it. She found herself thinking Jason was so foul she didn't want to risk drinking something he'd given to her...

That was illogical. He couldn't possibly be that bad...

As Asha droned on about skiing in the Alps, Amanda excused herself. She made her way out of the ballroom and down a large marble hallway. It was fantastically beautiful and opulent. And there was a large plant. Without thinking, Amanda took her drink and tipped it into the plant's pot.

"I didn't think the wine was that bad," said a familiar voice inflected with German behind her.

Amanda heaved a huge sigh of relief. Turning with a smile, her breath almost caught in her throat.

Josef Friedmann in a tuxedo was...well, he earned his place on the most eligible bachelor list.

Catching herself, Amanda gave him a tight smile. "My date gave it to me...and, well, the way things were going I thought I might test it out on the plant first."

Josef laughed, then caught himself. "Really, that bad? I hope you're not leaving..."

Amanda tilted her head. "He is the son of my mother's friend...but I am thinking about it," she said glancing down quickly at the pool of red wine in the planter.

She looked up at Josef.

"Has he even asked you to dance?" he asked, pushing up his glasses. Somehow Josef pushing up his glasses was far sexier than Jason Ethridge flexing his biceps could ever be.

"No, but he has given me permission to crash in his room upstairs," Amanda said.

Josef smiled tightly. "Charming man." He tilted his head. "While you are here, you might as well enjoy yourself. May I ask you to dance?" He held out his arm.

Amanda smiled. "I'd love to."


	13. Cutting In

Sarek saw Amanda once briefly as she entered the lobby. Wrapped in a shawl, she looked the picture of Vulcan decorum. She was accompanied by a healthy human male with features so symmetrical they looked like they might have been artificially augmented. Amanda's face was blank. Sarek did not have a chance to ponder it.

"So, Mr. Sarek, what do you think of the Hsu Jang's proposal for using vilinium cells to capture cosmic rays?" said Ling-Lin, the wife of the Tellurite Ambassador, her snout quivering slightly. "I find it most far fetched."

And so began a fascinating argument. T'Zena, Josef and Sarek were conveniently seated with the the Tellurite Ambassador, his aide, and Ling-Lin during dinner. Sarek enjoyed Ling-Lin's conversation so much he hoped if he had to dance she might oblige him. He found her very unattractive, and that was part of her appeal.

After the meal the tables were being pulled away and the dancing began. However, Ling-Lin seemed more than happy to argue about the comparative virtues of crysillium versus tillillium fission reactions for the purpose of anti-matter generation. Sarek was more than willing to oblige.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes and thirty-one seconds after the dancing had begun, Ling-Lin's husband interrupted their conversation. "That will be enough, wife. Sarek, if you weren't so offensive looking, I would think that you were in danger of seducing my wife, with all your talk of vilinium, crysillium and what-have-you."

Smiling, Ling-Lin pushed her snout to the Ambassador's own short, stubby, nose. "Never fear, my love," she snorted.

The Ambassador turned a deeper shade of pink. "Let us dance," he said, pulling her towards the dance floor.

Turning her head back as her husband pulled her away, Ling-Lin said, "I'm still not satisfied with your argument --"

Sarek watched them go, disappointed. Looking around, he suddenly realized that his other companions had drifted off. T'Zena and Josef were at the other side of the dance floor talking to a group of Andorians. His eyes lingered on T'Zena for a moment. She wore a red fitted Terran dress that managed to cover her almost completely...and yet...

Another figure caught his eye. It was Amanda, strolling along the edge of the dance floor alone, a glass in her hand. Her shawl was gone. He blinked. Her gown, if one could call it that, barely covered the upper part of her body.

Such attire would only be worn on Vulcan during the marriage ceremony when it was expected to be rent to shreds and it was deemed wasteful to use more fabric.

He tilted his head. It was certainly  _not_ the most revealing garment worn by females at this function; he should not judge it by Vulcan standards.

Amanda exited the ballroom down a hallway...Josef Friedmann followed her. Sarek straightened. Friedmann bothered Sarek in ways potential husband number nine did not. Sarek looked down. This was not his concern. But wasn't it? Perhaps he and Amanda weren't friends precisely; however, his people did not trust Friedmann.

He took a deep breath. Something faint and musky sweet made him tilt his head. He inhaled again. His body went warm.

"Personally," said a soft feminine voice centimeters from his right shoulder, "I think that crysillium is the more economical source of antimatter fuel."

Sarek's brain snapped to analytical mode. He looked up at the woman who was addressing him. "That is factually incorrect. All known tillillium reserves are located close to the surface on Class L planets whereas..."

She was Orion. Her features were extremely symmetrical. Her gown plunged down below her navel between two breasts that seemed to be defying gravity without the aid of any observable support device.

She casually stroked his arm with a well-manicured finger. "Whereas all known crysillium deposits are located deep in the mantle of inhabited Class J planets. However, known tillillium deposits are located near Klingon space, thereby encouraging tensions and risking war. War is very expensive."

She smiled. "Don't judge me by my race; I do have a brain. And am adept at exercising it..."

It would be illogical to pass judgments on her based on her species. And she did smell delicious.

She drew her face closer. "You are unbonded -- it's such a rare treat to find an unbonded Vulcan male. A treat I've never experienced before."

"And are unlikely to experience at this time," Sarek said, but he didn't move to step away. Why wasn't he stepping away?

"My pheromones are working on you," she said very softly.

"That is impossible. Orion pheromones do not work on Vulcans," Sarek said, his eyes focused on her very bite-able lower lip.

"Mmmmmm....impossible on a bonded Vulcan." One of her breasts pressed against the side of his arm. Her lips were very close to his. "I'm as strong as a Vulcan female...and don't worry, I. Do. Bite."

She leaned closer and smiled. "And you are more than welcome to bite me."

Sarek's jaw clenched and he began to salivate.

"Mmmm...yes, that's right...aren't you a bit curious? Wouldn't you like to see what I taste like? You're allowed to be curious with me, Vulcan."

Allowed to seek sensation for sensation's sake. Like T'Yavi and her V'tosh ka'tur...what...lover? He had seen a bit of the V'tosh ka'tur's mind through the mind meld and had not seen any emotion in his proposition to his former bond mate. Lover seemed a highly inaccurate word.

Sarek restrained the curling in his upper lip. He was not V'tosh ka'tur. He needed to get away -- his body was reacting to this Orion woman's presence. Averting his gaze to the dance floor, he found himself staring directly at Friedmann and Amanda.

Amanda looked beautiful and inviting. And compared to this Orion woman…very chaste. He felt himself pulled forward.

"Excuse me," Sarek said, stepping away from the Orion's touch. "I owe someone a dance."

x x x

"You're a good dancer, Josef," Amanda said.

He smiled. "I'm German. Vee attempt to be proficient at all vee do," he said, playing up his accent. Then he straightened his back and shoulders, wiped away his smile, and looked stiffly off into the distance above her shoulder as he spun her around.

"What are you doing?" Amanda asked.

"Zis iz my German robot routine, vu don't like it?" he said still looking off into the distance.

Amanda laughed. "You are a goof." For a most eligible bachelor, Josef was not intimidating--in a nice way.

He broke into a grin and his body relaxed. "Yes, especially after a few beers. Can't keep the German away from the beer..."

How was this man not taken? "Did you come alone tonight?" she asked.

"Well, Sarek didn't seem interested in taking me up on my offer to be my escort." He winked. "So, yes, I came stag. As did he."

Hmmmm...maybe he was gay? She was usually good at sensing these things and she didn't get that impression.

"Such a waste," Amanda said, deciding to tease him a bit. If he was gay, well, he had still rescued her from a horrible date and she would be forever grateful.

He shrugged. "Vulcans! What can you do?"

A flash of red over his shoulder caught Amanda's eye. "Wow, speaking of Vulcans, your boss looks gorgeous tonight!"

T'Zena was talking with an Andorian. She was wearing a mandarin style dress of the deepest red; it covered her from ankle to neck and had long sleeves -- and yet it hid nothing. Her hair was high on her head, but artful strands of curls cascaded down her neck. As men passed the Ambassador, Amanda saw their eyes linger.

Turning her, Josef looked over her shoulder. He tilted his head. "I suppose. If you like that sort of thing." He turned her eyes back to her. "Don't underestimate your charms. You look lovely, too."

Amanda almost melted -- but managed only to only avert her eyes and smile.

"I wonder where your Vulcan is…" Josef said scanning the room.

Amanda hardly heard him. Who cared where Sarek was at that exact moment? Her Vulcan indeed…

It was exactly two measures later when a familiar voice came from behind. "Excuse me. May I cut in?"

Oh no.


	14. No Objections

The familiar voice came from behind Amanda.

Josef stopped. "Sarek..." He blinked. "Well, if the lady has no objections."

Amanda did have objections, but she did her best to smile her good sport smile.

Dropping his arm from Amanda's back, Josef released her hand and gave her a wink. "Maybe I will see you later," he said. Of course, it came out more 'Maybe I vill zee you later.' He gave her a peck on the cheek and walked past her.

And then there was Sarek. Amanda sighed. He did look great. The tuxedo was flattering -- no flashy red snap tie and cummerbund combination; he wore gray instead. ...but this was inappropriate and irrelevant.

She held up her arms. "Shields up, Sarek?" They had a routine.

He hesitated a beat. "Yes, they are." One fever-hot hand took one of hers, the other went around her back, and he began to move her across the floor.

"What was that about, Sarek?" No use beating around the bush.

"What was what about?" he asked, eyes carefully looking over her shoulder.

"Yeah, right. You interrupted us in the middle of a number, causing a small, but unnecessary, commotion on the floor -- and I know how much you hate calling attention to yourself. Why'd you cut in? I was enjoying myself."

"My only other potential partner is currently dancing with her husband," Sarek said.

He was avoiding the question. Which aggravated her. Which was kind of convenient because if his shields did drop, she'd rather he catch her being aggravated than catch her feeling all whimsical and sappy about just how nice he looked in a tuxedo.

"And who would that be," she asked. Was it T'Zena? No, she was still talking to the Andorian -- Josef now with them.

"Ling-Lin, the Tellurite ambassador's wife. She is a warp engineer. We had a most fascinating conversation at dinner."

Amanda glanced over at the Tellurites dancing literally snout to snout -- which was kind of cute in an ugly sort of way.

She smiled. "So, Sarek, may I ask if you find Ling-Lin attractive?"

"No, I..." He stiffened ever so slightly. "No, that question is still inappropriate."

She raised an eyebrow. Had she almost caught him? Oh, Hell, it wasn't like it mattered. "But is it also completely irrelevant, Sarek?"

Sarek turned them to avoid colliding into another couple. "Yes, it is completely irrelevant."

Amanda looked over his shoulder and blinked. "Sarek, there is a very annoyed-looking green woman glaring at me..."

Sarek turned them again and followed her gaze. His jaw clenched minutely. "I am sorry about that."

"You're sorry about that?" Amanda felt her brow furrow. "What does that have to do with you?"

"I do not wish to discuss the matter."

Amanda caught sight of the green woman again. She was definitely glaring.

"Did you interrupt my dance with Mister Most Eligible because some green girl was chasing you? I don't think she'll bite..." Amanda tilted her head and stifled a laugh. "At least not in public."

Sarek took a deep breath. "As I said, I do not wish to discuss the matter." He switched to Vulcan.  _"Have you discarded potential husband number nine in favor of..."_  and then he slipped back to Standard, "Mister Honorable Mention?"

"I don't wish to discuss Jason Ethridge," Amanda said, stomach falling.

She looked away from Sarek. At some point she would have to make an appearance back over with the Entitlement Bunch, as she had mentally dubbed them. "He is in no way even a potential husband..." She shivered, "I wouldn't even consider him a ride home. He makes me feel..." She stopped; she was being irrational and reading far too much into the situation.

His parents were friends of her family. He was a jerk...but... She shouldn't worry so much.

Another couple knocked into Sarek from behind. "Excuse me," said the man. "Didn't see you there..."

"Quite alright," Sarek said.

His grip suddenly tightened on Amanda's hand and the hand on her back flexed. Amanda glanced up at the Vulcan and found him staring down at her. "Amanda, forgive me; when they bumped into us my mental shields fell..."

Oh. "It's nothing Sarek. I'll survive until the end of the evening and take a cab home..."

"It is hardly nothing that this Jason Ethridge frightens you."

Amanda looked down and swallowed. "I am being silly. Probably just illogical."

"I have insufficient data to determine if you are being illogical," Sarek said.

And then it all poured out of her. Jason running through red lights, the cavalier attitude he had towards Vulcans and the drought, the proposed bill to end interplanetary export of food, the attitude he and his friends had about using inferior dilithium crystals for starships -- in combat situations it could become a matter of life and death.

"...and during dinner, Sarek, they were so pleased about the negative publicity Vulcan is getting all the time lately. I really think you guys are getting set up." She looked up at Sarek. "Okay, maybe I am not being illogical."

Sarek was still staring down at her intently. "He has shown little regard for you or your safety, nor does he seem to put a high priority on the safety of sentient beings in general. You are not being illogical."

Amanda took a deep breath. "I guess if a Vulcan says I'm not being illogical --"

"You may rest assured, your thinking is quite sound," Sarek finished.

"Thanks, Sarek. His parents are friends of my family. His father is important--" She sighed. His father was a senator and her parents' business had contracts with Starfleet – beyond the whole friendship thing there was also that…

"I don't want to make a fuss. I'll just make sure I don't disappear into any dark corners with him. Or accept any drinks from him." She took a deep breath. That was pathetic.

The number was slowing down. "Amanda, sometimes...making a fuss...is acceptable."

Amanda looked at the floor. She'd rather not cause a scene if she could help it. If her mother knew how terrible Jason was, she'd feel incredibly guilty…

"It's not a big deal, Sarek."

The music ended and Amanda dropped her hands to join the other dancers in a round of applause for the band.

The music from the next number began to pick up and a motion in green over Sarek's shoulder caught her eye. "Uh-oh, it appears your green girlfriend is heading this way."

She held up her hands quickly. "Shall we dance?"

Sarek took a deep breath. "That would be most welcome."

As he turned her around the room, Amanda laughed. "You know, if we could just get your green girlfriend together with Jason, both our problems would be solved!"

"If you can devise a plan to achieve that, I would assist you in any way I could," Sarek said.

She laughed. Then said ruefully, "I would not do that to the Orion."

"I am not sure I share your objections," Sarek said, looking down at her. His face was his normal unreadable facade. She wasn't sure if he was teasing or not.

She smiled. "You know, even if my date is lousy, at least I've gotten to dance with two of the most handsome men at the ball."

Sarek immediately looked away.

"Oh, stop it, Sarek. It is perfectly acceptable and appropriate for me to comment on your appearance at this sort of thing. It is also appropriate for you to offer me a compliment in return."

Sarek turned his head back towards her. His eyes slid down her body...did they linger? No, impossible.

He looked away again and swallowed. "The bottom half of your dress covers you adequately."

Amanda raised an eyebrow. "We're going to have to work on your complimenting skills, Mister Junior Diplomat, if you ever want to become a senior diplomat." Then she whispered, "I do find the top to be a bit on the skimpy side..."

She was suddenly curious. "Am I easier to read, telepathically, now that both of your hands are on contact with bare skin?"

Sarek tilted his head, his hand clasping hers a little tighter. "Telepathic...or rather empathic touch--I am not quite capable of reading your thoughts with this touch without concentrated effort--is strongest through the hands and temples. Vulcans and Humans are well innervated in these regions. Of course your spine is also well innervated, but most of the nerve endings are distal to the spine itself; also the nerves are encased within your vertebrae so although I may sense some traces of emotions --"

"So, no?" said Amanda.

"So, no," said Sarek, looking at her again.

"But I did enjoy the explanation, Sarek." She smiled.

When the music number ended, Amanda said softly, "I don't want to go back to join the Entitlement Bunch just yet." Sarek tilted his head and asked her to dance another number. After that he didn't even bother to ask her; he just didn't let her go.

Amanda watched T'Zena dance with the Federation Ambassador's husband. She also saw Josef dance the Federation Ambassador herself, and also with Ling-Lin, the Tellurite's wife. "You have competition, Sarek!" she declared gleefully. Sarek eyed the two and said, "Apparently so."

"You're not going to go cut in?" Amanda asked with a grin.

"I have no desire to cause a scene when it is unnecessary," said Sarek.

It was after their fifth number that it abruptly ended. Sarek and Amanda were applauding the band when Jason approached her from behind. "Hey, what are you doing over here? We've missed you."

Amanda highly doubted it. "Dancing with a friend," she said with a smile. It was true...but it was also nice to piss Jason off a little bit. "I love to dance and you didn't seem interested."

Jason looked up at Sarek and his jaw clenched a little bit. "Next number is with me."

"Amanda, I am still available --" Sarek said.

Amanda looked over at her...friend...Sarek's eyes were on Jason's.

"It's okay, Sarek, I'll be alright," she said.

"Of course you'll be alright. What are you talking about?" said Jason, pulling a little roughly on her hand.

Sarek looked at her. The music started. He nodded ever so slightly, took one last look at Jason, and walked over to where T'Zena was talking with the Federaton Ambassador.

 


	15. Observations

 

Sarek returned to stand beside T'Zena and Friedmann, now talking to the Terran Ambassador to the Federation of Planets and her husband.

He watched as Jason Ethridge danced with Amanda exactly three minutes and twenty seconds before ushering her quickly from the floor to stand once more with his friends. Sarek watched Amanda go, her brows slightly furrowed.

Amanda had called him a friend. The word didn't mean as much in Standard as it did in Vulcan, but she had said it to someone who apparently harbored Vulcans ill will. Sarek took this to mean she did not take the word lightly. It didn't make him feel any better about the company she was currently keeping only out of feelings of obligation to her family.

Averting his eyes from Amanda, Sarek tried to pay attention to the conversation between T'Zena, Friedmann, the Federation Ambassador and her husband.

Although Federation members had embassies on all worlds, to be the actual representative to the Federation itself was a higher honor -- at least on Vulcan. After listening to the way Amanda's acquaintances talked of the Federation, he wondered if this was the attitude believed by humans.

He was somewhat underwhelmed by the Federation Ambassador's conversation. She seemed to stick to small talk. The most interesting moment came when she put an arm on Friedmann's shoulder and said, "I will steal him from you yet, T'Zena."

Sarek blinked. Steal him? Josef turned pink, stared at his feet, and pushed his glasses up his nose in the way Sarek found extremely irritating. Why didn't he have corrective surgery? Illogical human.

T'Zena tilted her head, confused as Sarek, no doubt.

"He has done a wonder with the Vulcan Endowment -- ten percent average return three years in a row despite the stodgy markets," the Terran Ambassador said. "Josef, the Terran delegation wants you to be our CFO...when are you going to work for me?"

On Vulcan to publicly declare you would steal someone in front of their employer would be considered very bad manners indeed. Was she joking or serious?

Josef continued to look at the floor. "I have only earned an average return of 9.72 percent in the last three years...and if you keep this up T'Zena will think I put you up for this to angle for a raise."

The other humans laughed and Josef excused himself to speak with a member of the Andorian delegation.

The small talk resumed and Sarek's eyes went to where Amanda stood, back turned to him, across the room. Mr. Ethridge kept a hand possessively on Amanda's hip. Sarek found himself resisting the urge to clench his jaw.

Sarek danced with the Federation Ambassador. He also danced with Ling-Lin, and they resumed their fascinating discussion about the merits of various sources of antimatter fuel. Friedmann and T'Zena he made the rounds of the room, talking to representatives of the various worlds.

There was much more small talk...and whispers. Sarek's sensitive ears picked up snippets of,  _"...rumors they are already rationing food...," "...value of Vulcan credits will fall when their dilithium crystals are not in such high demand..."_

Every three minutes he would discreetly look up to monitor Amanda's whereabouts.

He also saw Friedmann look in her direction a few times as well...and found himself resisting the urge to clench his jaw again. Certainly it was not his place to keep her from finding a suitable human male. However...the key word was suitable, and since T'Pau obviously had reservations about Friedman's integrity, he decided it was not illogical for him to be concerned.

x x x

It was close to midnight and Amanda had had enough of the Entitlement Gang. And she'd had more than enough of Jason Ethridge; she kept gently disengaging his hand from her hip, and it kept going back there.

"I'm getting tired," she said. Tired was nicer than saying, I'm incredibly bored, wasn't it?

"What?" Jason said, leaning too close, a slightly inebriated smile on his face. "The night's just beginning."

"Yes, well...I'm a lightweight," Amanda said.

"We can tell that by how little you're drinking," said Asha, sipping some exotic pink concoction.

Amanda decided to ignore that. "Anyway, don't worry, I'll just catch a cab." Turning to Ross and Asha she said, "Really, nice to meet you. Perhaps I'll see you around."

"Sure, maybe we will," said Ross, looking briefly at Amanda before raising an eyebrow at Asha.

Jason dropped the hand that was holding onto Amanda's hip. "Wait now, you can't go, Amanda. My mom gave me something I'm supposed to give to you...so you can give it to your mom."

Amanda didn't know what to say. Under any other circumstances she would have been bolting to the door already by now. But the words 'your mom' and 'my mom' made her pause.

"Oh, okay," she stammered.

"Great, we can get it now," said Jason. Turning to his friends he winked. "See you guys in a bit."

And then he smiled at Amanda, took her gently by the elbow and started heading towards the lobby. She'd just tell him she'd grab her shawl and purse from the coat check while he went to get whatever it was.

"You were probably getting bored, weren't you?" Jason said as they made there way across the room. "I guess I should expect that from someone who is friends with Vulcans. You know, we don't really want to see them starve or anything...and they won't you know they can buy food elsewhere...we just want to keep Earth's water for Earth. And you know...for Earth not to be so dependent on Vulcan for dilithium..."

It was the nicest thing Jason had said all evening...about Vulcans or her. Amanda didn't know what to say.

x x x

Sarek watched from across the room as Amanda departed with Jason Ethridge. The two made their way towards the lobby, walking past the Orion woman who had been pestering Sarek earlier, she was now talking to Friedmann -- although at a slightly more discreet distance Sarek noted.

Friedmann looked up as Amanda passed. Whispering something in the Orion's ear, Friedmann abruptly left the green woman to follow Amanda and Jason. The Orion woman bit her lip but did nothing to stop the human male.

Excusing himself quickly, Sarek made his way to the lobby. He found Friedmann standing by the turbolifts pressing the buttons quickly.

"Where did they go?" Sarek asked.

Friedmann looked up at him. "I heard what's-his-name say she could wait at the observation deck while he went to get something for her mother."

"Where are you going?" Sarek asked.

Friedmann shrugged and pressed the up button gain -- which was of course, completely illogical. Pressing the buttons quickly wasn't going to make the turbolifts come any quicker. "I thought I might like to see the observation deck myself. Care to join me?"

Sarek stared at Friedmann -- he knew humans were adept liars. Was this foray to the observation deck an excuse to confirm Amanda's well being? If so, Sarek could not fault him for his protectiveness. But protectiveness towards a potential mate was instinct, wasn't it? Hardly the sum and full measure of a man. And perhaps the excursion had some other devious purpose?

"Joining you would be satisfactory," said Sarek.

At that moment a feminine voice from behind them said, "Excuse me, are you Josef Friedman from the Vulcan Embassy?"

Friedmann and Sarek both turned.

"Yes, I am," Friedmann said.

"I'm Caroline Cross. I work for the non-Federated colonies...we have been wanting to speak to T'Zena about grain exports..." The gray-haired woman before them was wearing business attire; she was obviously not a patron of the ball.

The turbolift door chimed.

"You must be attending the Federation event," Caroline said. "Our delegation was not invited, but we are in town."

Josef turned to Sarek and tilted his head towards the turbolift. "Will you take care of this?"

"Yes," Sarek said quickly.

"Good, I'll meet you there as soon as I can." Josef said. And then he took the woman's arm. "Ms. Cross, you are now officially my date for the evening."

The turbo lift door opened and Sarek stepped in. He pressed the button for the observation deck.


	16. Splinters

The large lift was crowded when she got on with Jason -- there were at least fifteen people. And he pressed the button that had Observation Deck labeled next to it. Maybe she'd been completely wrong...maybe she'd been illogical when she told him that no, she'd prefer to wait in the lobby and ripped her elbow out of his hand.

People had turned to look at them. Jason turned, laughing and said, "Hey, easy, you'll enjoy the view while I go to my room and pick up the gift from my mom. Come on, I think your mother's expecting it."

Amanda looked around. People were staring. She suddenly felt like a girl being bratty and irrational at a high school dance, making a fuss because things weren't going exactly her way. This was the Ritz Carlton. It was a Federation event. She was in a crowded, respectable, public place.

And then he'd smiled, a full smile, and she felt like she was being...well a, bitch.

She swallowed. She did not like this man, or really trust him...but she would be polite. Because that is what good people did, right?

...and the turbolift was crowded when she got on...there was nothing to worry about. There would be people at the observation deck. It was a public place, after all.

But then one by one and two by two all the other passengers got off the lift. The ascent was incredibly slow...Amanda thought they stopped at just about every third floor...and at one point someone got on...but then that person exited. And now, as the lift stopped at the top floor deck level they were alone.

The doors slid open to a gorgeous lobby. There was an ornate porcelain vase on a high beautiful end table, marble floor and walls, and a gilt sign that indicated Observation Deck left and Suites right. Jason took her arm and started to guide her to the right.

"No, I'm going to the observation deck," Amanda said.

Jason stopped, his smile gone, his fingers dug into her elbow. "What is your problem? We'll go to my room, we'll get the thing for your dad from my dad, and then we'll go to the observation deck."

Dad? She'd been an idiot.

Twisting her elbow out of his grip she said, "I'm not going anywhere with you!" And then she tried to walk towards the elevator.

"No fucking way you don't." Jason grabbed her with both arms and threw her against the table opposite the lifts. Pain shot through her stomach, and her teeth rattled.

And suddenly she knew she had to fight...or this was going to go much worse. Picking up the ornate vase, Amanda spun and heaved it in Jason's direction.

He blocked it and it crashed and shattered across the floor. Why didn't anyone hear that?

"You little bitch!" He was smiling when he said it. His arms shot forward and grabbed her by her shoulders and spun her around. "I only brought you here because your dad is on some business council my dad thinks is important," he whispered from behind into her ear. "The least you could do is show some appreciation."

Amanda lifted her head and shouted as loud as she could, "Fire! Fire! Everyone, Fire!"

"Fuck!" Jason put his hand over her mouth. Amanda tried to bring her heels down on his feet and failed. Twisting her head, she tried to bite; her teeth bit down three times in rapid succession on empty air, but then as Jason shifted to avoid her heels she caught a little bit of skin between her incisors.

"Fucking bitch!" Jason snarled. He spun Amanda around.

There was a moment when time stood still. Amanda's whole world shrunk to just her and Jason. She could not see anything but him, and could not hear anything other than her own heartbeat and ragged breaths.

He had one hand on her shoulder, the other was poised in the air in a wind up for a punch. It was almost as if he was frozen in place...but he wasn't frozen--that fist was coming at her. Amanda was prepared to knee him in the groin but somehow she knew that fist was going to connect with her face before her knee connected with his body.

Trying to pull back she closed her eyes, turned her head, and waited for the blow to come.

But it didn't.

The hand on her shoulder dropped.

Amanda opened her eyes and turned to look.

Jason's eyes were closed, and his body hung limply in the air. A shadow had one hand on Jason's neck, the shadow's other hand held Jason aloft by the wrist.

The sound of her own breath in her ears reached a crescendo that was almost deafening. Amanda closed her eyes...opened them slowly.

And the shadow wasn't a shadow anymore; it was Sarek holding Jason aloft in the air like a rag doll. Sarek gazed mutely at the human in his hands and his lip curled upward ever so minutely and just for a moment Amanda was very frightened.

She blinked, a gasp escaping her mouth. Turning to meet her eyes, Sarek tilted his head. His face was as completely calm as ever, but for some reason Amanda felt as though he were someone else.

x x x

Stepping out of the lift, Sarek saw Amanda pinned against a waist high table by the human man, the floor around them littered with shards of what looked like pottery. Sarek saw the human male wind his fist backwards in preparation to stirke.

With quick steps Sarek crossed the lobby, broken pottery crunching beneath his feet. One of Sarek's hands caught the wrist of the hand the human male had intended to strike Amanda with. Sarek's other hand caught the man in a Vulcan nerve pinch.

And that is when Sarek's mind splintered.

He wanted to kill. And there were so many option.

He could drop the Human and crush his windpipe beneath his foot.

Or he could break his neck.

There were the shards of pottery on the floor. They were sharp enough that he could use a piece to pierce the Human's hide.

Or...and this was particularly appealing...Sarek could try a mental assault. He could invade this man's mind, find where Jason was cowering in unconsciousness and kill him by attacking the nerves that innervated his heart and vital organs. He would be able to face the Human while he did it, watch the Human unravel as he began to slip towards death...drink in his fear -- and Sarek could let the Human know just how very, very angry he was.

This Human was an enemy of his people. And this Human had tried to hurt his...friend. Yes, definitely his friend. He apparently did not know how very seriously Vulcans regarded friendship and that was deeply...annoying? Yes, annoying enough that breaking every single bone in the Human's weak body seemed entirely appropriate -- although that might mean delaying killing him.

Sarek began to weigh the benefits of slow painful death versus expediency.

At the same time he was considering all these options, another splinter of his mind looked on with a detached fascination. This was what logic was for! To temper these urges. It was entirely inappropriate, and yes, illogical, to kill this man. He was incapacitated now, and no longer a threat. The logical thing to do was to leave this matter to the proper authorities who would dispassionately judge the man's crimes and decide upon a suitable punishment.

The sound of ragged breathing caressed his ears and he turned to look at his...friend. She stood before him, eyes wide in that lovely symmetrical face.

Ah...and there was that other element about this whole situation.

She. His...friend, was female.

Sarek had removed the man who sought to mark and claim her, so didn't that mean, that by default, she now belonged to Sarek himself?

She licked her lips. Was she trying to be seductive? It was effective.

"Sarek?"

Wait...Didn't she recognize him? Perhaps she was in shock.

The splinter of his mind that was logical suddenly expanded and coalesced around all the other thoughts. All of his analytical abilities returned to the service of that logical side of himself.

How long had he stood in contemplation? Two point seven seconds.

"Excuse me," Sarek said and turned his attention to the man in his hands. He lowered Jason gently to the ground. Dropping him might result in needless injury.

Standing up, he looked down and regarded the man...for a heartbeat the thought of crushing the man's neck beneath his foot flickered through his mind, and then was gone.

He tilted his head. He would have much to meditate on later.

He turned to Amanda. "Are you in need of medical assistance?"

She shook her head.

Reaching into his pocket for his comm, Sarek said, "I will call security then."

Amanda was staring down at the man on the floor. Her face twisted and she pulled a foot backwards. Sarek realized that she was going to kick the Human. Moving forward, Sarek blocked the foot trying to connect with the unconscious man's cranium. The foot landed against his shins. And then Amanda was banging her fists against Sarek's chest...but her hands fell too softly to hurt. After a few strikes Amanda's head fell to Sarek's chest. Her body shook.

Sarek had no idea what to do. Standing rigidly he said, "Amanda, I must call security."

She nodded, but did not speak.


	17. Necessary Assistance

 

The next hour passed in a blur for Amanda. Security came. Jason was wheeled away on a stretcher. And then the police came. Someone -- a nurse? A doctor? Examined her briefly. Then she was questioned.

Amanda expected the police to be harsher, more critical of her, possibly distrustful of Sarek. But they weren't. They were professional, almost kind. She thought she heard one of the officers mumble something about 'Spoiled Senator's Brat...'

She and Sarek were questioned by an older man of African descent. He had white hair and a scar down one side of his face. When he finished hearing their accounts he nodded, held up his hand in the Vulcan salute and said in halting Vulcan,  _"Live long and prosper, Sarek and Amanda."_

It was just another surreal moment in a surreal evening. Amanda's jaw dropped. Sarek's head tilted.

Standing up, the officer said, "A lot of us are ex-military. We've served with the Vulcan Defense Force -- I myself served at the battle of New Gallipoli. The Vulcans who served with me there will always be my brothers." He nodded and turned away before Amanda could say anything.

Vulcan and Humans repelled Klingon invaders of New Gallipoli -- but at a tremendous cost in Human and Vulcan lives. It was a reminder of when push came to shove, Vulcan and Earth could stand together until the bitter end. Amanda found herself wondering how her race had forgotten that in such a short time.

Obviously the officer hadn't forgotten what their two races could accomplish together...and he called them brothers...

And then events blurred together again. Josef was there and T'Zena. Josef was telling her how sorry he was. Sorry for what? She didn't understand. T'Zena was talking to Sarek and then the police. Hotel staff came and began to sweep away the vase.

Someone, a police officer maybe, told her she was free to go. There were too many people in the lobby. The turbolift door slid open just then, more hotel staff got off...and it was as though the lift was waiting for her and her alone.

Exiting the lift in the lobby, Amanda made her way to the coat check and picked up her shawl and purse. Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, she dropped the purse. Stooping down to pick it up, she her shawl fell. Re-wrapping the shawl, she felt the purse slipping from her fingers again. She threw back her head in frustration, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"Excuse me, Amanda. This is yours, I believe."

For a moment Amanda didn't even recognize the voice.

Opening her eyes, she found herself facing Sarek again. This time holding her purse out to her.

Reaching to take it from his hands, she noticed for the first time that her hands were shaking.

Looking up quickly she found Sarek's eyes on hers.

He tilted his head. "I believe you mentioned taking a cab home; however, if it would not make you feel uncomfortable, I am at your disposal."

x x x

Amanda was very quiet the whole drive...Sarek suspected she was in mild shock, although she refused further assistance from the police when they'd offered counseling and medical care. She had been briefly examined, and he didn't think they would let her go if she was exhibiting signs life threatening trauma...but he was still concerned.

She'd walked onto the turbolift alone, without saying goodbye. Sarek had excused himself immediately from the police officer he was speaking to and tried to join her...but the lift doors had slid shut before he had a chance to reach her. Worse, she had been staring directly at him as the doors shut but didn't seem to have seen him.

And then when he caught up to her in the lobby, he watched as her accessory bag slid from her fingers not once, but twice. He didn't think it was safe for her to go home alone -- even if the nurse had told her she was free to go.

Now he wished he could say something to help her in her obviously altered mental state. But Sarek estimated his odds of saying something inappropriate at being somewhere around 98.7% based on his limited readings on manners in this particular type of situations, and previous attempts at improvisation in the past.

So he said nothing beyond what was absolutely necessary.

When he pulled up to her house, Amanda did not move right away. He heard her swallow.

"Thank you for everything tonight, Sarek. I...I...feel like such an idiot...I shouldn't have gone anywhere beyond the lobby with him. He said he had something to give my Mom...I wasn't going to go to his room either, I was going to go to the observation deck and wait..."

Sarek took a deep breath. He would use colloquialisms to soften his words. "Amanda, I apologize in advance for the very high probability that I am about to insert my foot in my mouth."

She puffed out a soft laugh, and for an instant Sarek was relieved. And then she wiped away a tear and Sarek was disorientated. "It appears I already have inserted my foot into--"

"No, no you haven't, Sarek. I'm just shaken up...literally and figuratively."

"Ah. Well, I was going to say that you are not an idiot. You have been apprehensive of the man's intentions the whole evening. The only reason you put up with his company was out of a sense of familial obligation -- which is something Vulcans can understand. You did not knowingly go where you would be isolated..."

She shook and looked down at her hands. "...next time don't worry about causing a scene or what my parents might think..."

Sarek took a breath. "If you feel your safety is at risk --"

T'Yavi must have known her safety was at risk. He looked down.

Amanda whispered, "I didn't want to cause a scene and instead I caused a huge scene...and I dragged you into it...and I know you hate calling attention to yourself...and I'm sorry..."

Sarek blinked. It would have been against the principles of Surak to not render his assistance. "You need not be concerned. Some scenes are necessary."

Amanda looked over at him and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders he hadn't known was there. She hadn't looked at him since he'd handed back her bag.

"Vulcans don't lie," she said softly. "So I guess I can believe you."

"Of course."

She nodded at him and then turned to the door. She fumbled at the latch and Sarek realized her hands were shaking again.

"I will help you out," he said.

Stepping out of the hover he made his way around and opened the door for her. He offered his arm so she might use it for support.

Amanda stared at his arm for a few seconds. Had he done something wrong? He searched his data banks on manners and could not find anything in human customs that discouraged this.

"I thought touching was a big no for Vulcans -- I know you find dancing uncomfortable..." Amanda said.

Ah. That was it. She was being sensitive to his culture, which was admirable, but she was slightly misinformed. "Ordinarily, yes. But rendering assistance when needed is never illogical."

Amanda took his arm, carefully not touching his hands or any exposed skin. "Thank you, Sarek," she whispered.

"Not at all," he replied, walking her the short distance to her door.

She pushed her fingertips to the key pad, and checked the readout before entering her access pin with shaking fingers. "My roommate isn't home yet..." She said. She took a deep breath. "Sarek, would you mind coming in and waiting with me until she gets home? I...I just don't want to be alone."

She met his eyes. This was an unusual request. A Vulcan would seek to retire to mediation. But she was not Vulcan, and she had rendered him much assistance in the past -- over eight weeks of dance lessons, and hadn't she spared him from the advances of an amorous Orion?

Tapping the arm she held lightly she said, "I promise I don't bite."

And her intentions were obviously not inappropriate. And considering the circumstances it was only logical to be concerned about her welfare.

"That would be acceptable."

x x x

Amanda let go of Sarek's arm as they entered her house -- and wished she hadn't. He was warm...and she missed his warmth already.

Tea. She'd make tea.

She led Sarek through her small home to the kitchen and turned on the light. "I thought I'd have some tea," she said. "I have some of the jasmine you like...thought I might have some mint..."

She went to refill the teakettle on the stove and fumbled with it miserably.

Sarek came up beside her. "May I?"

"I'm not an invalid," she snapped, looking down at her hands. "Besides, you don't know where things are."

"I presume the mugs hanging beneath the cabinet are clean, and that the tea is in the canister marked tea over there on the counter."

She looked up at him. His face was the same mask of calm it always was. Did Vulcans get nerves? Did they have adrenaline? Had he had any emotional reaction to the event at all?

She didn't say these things, though.

Instead she fell back to the familiar. "They don't hand out astrophysicist degrees on Vulcan for nothing, do they?"

"No," said Sarek.

Amanda handed him the teakettle. "Can you operate the stove?"

He tilted his head.

Amanda blinked. "What? I just thought maybe you'd find it hopelessly primitive."

"I will endeavor to manage. Where do you keep the flint and steel to start the fire?"

For a minute she almost fell for it. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Yes," Sarek said, filling the teakettle with clean water.

It actually felt good to be teased. It was familiar and comfortable and she almost wanted to cry for some reason. She wouldn't cry.

"I'm going to sit down in the other room," she said.

"I will follow you in a few minutes," Sarek said, putting the water on to boil.

Amanda sat down at the corner of the couch, hugged a pillow to her chest, and pulled her feet up. And then her head began to fill with thoughts she'd rather not have. What had happened. What might have happened.

Repressing a shiver, she picked up the remote and turned on the big screen monitor across the room. The first thing that came up was the Sol News Network's special report on desertification.

She was about to turn it off out of respect to Sarek, but then she left it on. This was just the sort of thing that Senator Ethridge wanted, and Jason and his horrible friends.

The show was the same old thing...we're losing water and minerals by exporting our food to Vulcan, etc, etc...Blue Peace was there, as well as several prominent researchers. There were also interviews with ordinary citizens all over Earth who were  _very concerned_  about losing water and mineral resources to Vulcan.

Sarek came to the door of the living room. "Sarek, don't we gain some minerals back in the form of the technological gizmos we get from you guys?"

If he was at all disturbed by her choice of viewing material he said nothing. "Yes. There are full elemental breakdowns given with all of the items we trade -- just as your food packaging gives a full breakdown of nutritional information. This...news program...does not seem to be addressing that..."

"It won't," Amanda said, noticing his hesitancy in describing the current programming as news. "This is sensationalist drivel." She hit the mute button.

"Water is the real issue," Sarek said. "There are efforts by both Terran and Vulcan scientists to devise methods of harvesting water from Ceres, Pallas and other carbonaceous bodies in your asteroid belt. Typically 22% of their composition is water. However, the water must be treated for radiation and other contaminants -- particularly exotic amino acid like structures that can be extremely toxic. Bacteria are currently being developed to digest the aminos and render the water safe for Human and Vulcan use."

Amanda raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So when we are able to mine water from Ceres, Vulcan won't even need Earth food anymore and then we'll be on the other side of the trade imbalance...maybe that is why it hasn't happened yet..."

Sarek tilted his head. "I do not know. There are definite technical challenges, however...and there are issues to consider before importing more water than is lost to space travel. It may be more damaging to our population than the occasional drought.

"And even with ample water supplies, Vulcan will still be susceptible to food shortages. Our population is large, our planet harsh. Earth is very fertile. Not just with water, but with nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and organic compounds. And your population since the last great war is far below what your planet can sustain -- our population of six billion is stable, but we are at our limit. Also, there are elements of our physiology that make our energy requirements -- ah, the water is boiling, excuse me."

He left the room. The scene on the monitor switched back to Vulcan. The video of Paumak and his derisive comment, and then the horrible comment by the anonymous Vulcan in response to T'Zena's statement, were shown again. Amanda had seen just how shallow humans could be though, too.

Sarek walked in and handed her her tea and Amanda suddenly realized she was still in her gown, and he was still in his tuxedo. "My Vulcan butler," she said and winked -- otherwise he might not know she was teasing.

"May I be permitted to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea with you, Madam?" Sarek replied evenly.

He'd come a long way since coming to Earth.

"Just this once," Amanda said raising an eyebrow. She felt better pretending she was fine and everything was normal even if she still felt like she was on the edge of tears. She took a sip of her tea and Sarek seated himself in the arm chair next to her.

...Not that Sarek had ever been in her home before...and how did having tea after 2 AM with an alien in her living room ever feel normal?

Movement on the screen caught her eye. The camera was focused on the human announcer, but in the background were ordinary Vulcans...adults and children. The children did not smile or frolic. They marched obediently beside their parents. They did not hold hands, she noticed; instead the children and parents walked with index and middle fingers touching.

A woman walked very close to the camera, a toddler in her arms, a small child at her side. They looked so much like human children, but with up-swept brows, bowl haircuts and pointy ears...oh, those ears...

"Your children are adorable," Amanda whispered.

Sarek's mouth opened. Before he could say it, Amanda amended her statement. "Vulcan children are adorable."

She turned the sound back on.

 _"Of course we tried, like we always do, to get some comments from ordinary Vulcans,"_ the announcer half shrugged, _"but they are a private people and the_ do not _take kindly to the interference of outsiders. Brent Tucker, live from Shi'Kahr."_

The implication, of course, was Vulcans don't respect or even like Humans, but Hell, they'd take Human food and water. Not that Vulcan children had anything to do with that. It was  _illogical_  to make children suffer for the perceived arrogance of their parents.

And what about the arrogance of humans...and their parents?

Hitting the mute button again, Amanda asked, "Sarek, does anyone important on Vulcan listen to you?"

"Yes," he said.

"Do they respect your opinion?" Amanda asked, staring past the announcer at Vulcan families in the scene.

"That is another matter entirely," Sarek said.

"You've got to get those people talking." She turned to him, "The ordinary people, Sarek."

"Amanda, it is not that simple. They will be disinclined to talk because they do not know what to say," Sarek said. "Which may be prudent given the differences in our cultures."

"So, give them talking points."

The police officer they'd met earlier suddenly came to mind. Vulcans had died side by side with Humans -- it was  _illogical_ to weaken a partner that was willing to die for you.

The amount of water that was available in Earth's biosphere varied from year to year, depending on the amount that got locked into glaciers and icecaps. And it sounded as though in a few years time Earth would be able to replace water that was lost to export. So it was _illogical_  to halt exports now.

But really she didn't care what was illogical or logical...she suddenly just really wanted the bill to halt food exports to Vulcan to fail. And she wanted it to fail dramatically, in a huge implosion that would show all of Earth just what shallow, short-sighted, self-serving bastards Senator Ethridge and everyone who thought like him and his son were.

"Amanda...you are very quiet," Sarek said.

"You've got to change the news, Sarek. It's working against you right now," Amanda said, still staring at the screen.

"You have mentioned before that you believed Vulcan was being set up. Do you believe your media is responsible?" Sarek said.

"No, the media just goes where the story is -- they attack whatever fresh meat they're thrown like a school of hungry piranhas. You've got to control the meat..." The show had switched to the ending credits and a montage of the announcers looking heroic and self-important.

Sarek cleared his throat. "I realize that is only metaphor; however, as a vegan --"

"Get the ordinary people talking, Sarek," she said again. "And let them say things like 'We know Earth won't let us down, Earth and Vulcan have stood together for over one hundred years and they won't let us down now'." Amanda waved her hands. "Or some logical derivative of that...As soon as humans see mothers with children -- children that look so much like our children -- saying how they trust humans...implying that they need human help, any anti-export bill is going to face a firestorm of public disapproval."

She thought again of the officer they had met earlier...She began to smile, a wicked idea in her brain. "And you know what...it might be a lovely time for Vulcan to sponsor a reunion of the Vulcan and Human soldiers from New Gallipoli and other important battles. That would be a media event."

She giggled...and her laughter sounded strange to her ears. She didn't feel like she was inhabiting her body...she felt like she was floating outside of it...

She giggled again. "Blood is thicker than water."

"Pardon?" asked Sarek.

Amanda turned to him. He was leaning closer to her, his head tilted.

"The original expression means that ties to family will always be stronger than ties to non-kin...but...the police officer, he's seen blood spilled. Vulcan and human blood...and he thinks of Vulcans as his brothers. Some people think of Vulcans as family..."

She smiled. "Maybe we can change the meaning of the idiom...The blood we've spilled together is thicker than trivial fights over water."

She giggled and fell forward on her pillow. She felt like a spring that had just been sprung. "Sarek."

"Yes, Amanda?"

He was leaning very close to her. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck.

Amanda laughed. "I think I may be coming off of a little bit of a adrenaline rush or shock...or something."

"Yes, Amanda, I think that may be so." Sarek said. Perhaps not enough to require medical aide but...His eyes caught sight of shadows on Amanda's back. Bruises. Perhaps where she'd been shoved against the table?

The thought of crushing Jason's Ethridge's windpipe beneath his heel fluttered again through his mind. He let it pass. Let logic reign.

For a few moments they had teased each as normal. And engaged in a logical discussion...but now Amanda seemed overly emotional. Even for a human. An after effect of traumatic events earlier this evening, as she suggested?

"That doesn't mean my ideas are wrong," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow she was leaning into.

"It would be illogical to presume they were," Sarek said. Ideas should be weighed on their merits, not on the merits of the mental state of their originator.

She didn't lift her head from the pillow on her lap. She laughed again softly. It didn't sound like her normal laughter. It was too rapid, the wrong pitch.

Just one touch and he'd be able to determine her emotional state.

Just one touch and he could give her peace and comfort.

But the medical opinion of the nurse was that Amanda was well enough -- and without a health risk he could not justify initiating telepathic contact with someone he was not related to. And what he was thinking of was intimate.

Still...she clearly was not herself. He would just ask.

He opened his mouth...and there was a sound from the hallway. Amanda lifted herself upright. A young woman Sarek had never seen before came into the room. She was attractive, pale-haired and pale-eyed like Josef Friedmann, and smelled like cigarette smoke and alcohol, but she did not waver as she walked.

"Amanda! How was your evening?" she said with a wide smile. And then she looked up at Sarek and her smile vanished. She blinked.

"Carrie," said Amanda, "this is Sarek. Sarek, this is Carrie.

"The evening was...not so great." Amanda turned to him. "Present company excepted, of course."

He nodded at her. "You will be fine now?"

"I will," Amanda said. "Thanks again for everything."

Sarek tilted his head. "Friends look out for one another." He hoped that was not too forward.

Amanda smiled. Apparently, he had not overstepped any lines.

"Yeah, don't forget I saved you from that Orion," she said.

"I am Vulcan -- I do not forget." He stood up and nodded in Carrie's direction. "Pleased to meet you. I can show myself to the door."

"Of course you can; you're the butler," Amanda said.

He gave her a last look. She raised an eyebrow to indicate she was teasing.

Sarek went towards the door. Behind him he could hear Carrie say, "Amanda? You leave with Senator-son-what's-his-name, and you come back home with your Vulcan...

are you going to tell me what happened?"

Her Vulcan? He would have to meditate on that...

In the meantime he needed to speak immediately to T'Pau. It would be much better if he called her rather than the other way around.


	18. Policies, Politics, and Precepts

 

Sarek meditated briefly before initiating the subspace call. He was completely at peace with his actions. His behavior, if not his thoughts, had been logical the entire evening. And that was all that Surak required.

Although he was at peace with his actions, he was not comfortable with revealing his personal friendship with Amanda to T'Pau. If directly questioned, he would divulge. But the relationship was not of import to his placement on Earth.

Entering the code that accessed T'Pau's direct line, he sat back and waited.

The screen flickered. "Sarek," the elder said, "this is unexpected."

"I have had an unexpectedly eventful evening," Sarek replied. He then proceeded to recount events.

"...I had been instructed to try and mingle with other guests. I danced with the Terran Federation Ambassador, the wife of the Tellurite Ambassador and with Miss Amanda Grayson, date of Jason Ethridge, Senator Ethridge's son, immediately after Josef Friedmann. I deemed it appropriate, based on your suspicions about Mr. Friedmann."

Not a lie -- but a deliberate obscurantism. She was his friend and as a friend he was allowed to be concerned with her being in the presence of suspicious company.

"Do you know the nature of her association with Mr. Friedmann?" T'Pau asked.

Sarek did not hesitate. "She has mentioned his eligibility as a romantic partner. They are associates from the Embassy. It was actually during a meeting in Mr. Friedmann's office that I learned she would be attending the event with Senator Ethridge's son."

"And did you learn anything of interest about Mr. Friedmann from her?" T'Pau asked.

"No. But she did speak of Mr. Ethridge extensively and I learned quite a few things. Apparently, the senator plans to initiate a bill in the Terran Senate to cut off food exports to Vulcan."

T'Pau sat up straighter. "I did not know this...The Federation would strike down such a bill if it passed, of course, but it would take time, and there would be the issue of enforcement."

"In addition, I learned that certain elements of Terran society do not view an embargo as a sufficient retaliatory gesture," Sarek added.

T'Pau tilted her head. "Indeed. I would judge that assessment of Terran society to be accurate."

"Later that evening, I saw Mr. Ethridge leave in the company of Ms. Grayson. Mr. Friedmann broke out of a conversation quite abruptly to follow them."

He'd been talking to the Orion, and seemed to break away from the conversation quite easily. How had he done that? Had he promised to meet her later?

"I was curious, so I went as well," Sarek said. "I discovered Mr. Friedmann in the lobby at the turbolift attempting to go up to the observation deck. He asked if I cared to join him, and I accepted.

"Just as the turbolift arrived Mr. Friedmann was approached by a Ms. Cross, a member of the non-Federated colonies. She wanted to speak with T'Zena regarding exporting agricultural products to Vulcan. Mr. Friedmann indicated that I should go ahead to the observation deck and said that he would join me as soon as he was able...and then he took Ms. Cross's arm, declaring her his date for the evening."

"That is interesting. The non-Federated colonies do not produce enough surplus food to be of use to us for very long -- but at this point we need to aggressively pursue all options." T'Pau blinked. "He called her his date...And he had just met her?"

Sarek tilted his head. "He did not seem to recognize her. Human behavior is often confusing --"

"And Mr. Friedmann's especially so," T'Pau said. "It is difficult to determine his loyalties. I find him quite unpredictable. He is an adept liar...it would be good if we had something that we could use to ensure his cooperation."

Sarek tilted his head. "I am still working on it."

T'Pau nodded at him. "I understand your difficulties." She tilted her head. "So was it at the observation deck that the altercation occurred?"

Sarek was not shocked that she knew. Police reports were public record on Terra.

"No," he replied. "It was in the lobby on the same floor. I exited the lift to see Mr. Ethridge pinning Ms. Grayson against a table about to strike her. I intervened and called security."

It was the logical thing to do. To have watched and not intervened in the situation between Jason and Amanda would have made him an accomplice.

"It will most likely be in the news tomorrow, Sarek. We will have to see how the humans react to it -- obviously we cannot afford more negative publicity. But your behavior was completely logical. Is there anything else that you can tell me about the evening?"

Sarek looked down. "Nothing specifically about the evening. However..." He looked up at the elder. "As you noted, we have been receiving a great deal of negative publicity of late. Perhaps it is time to go on the offensive?"

T'Pau tilted her head. "You have suggestions?"

Sarek described Amanda's ideas to T'Pau, never saying the ideas were his, or hers -- just that they were...ideas.

When he was done T'Pau said nothing for 3.5 seconds. "You are doing surprisingly well at this, Sarek."

"Pardon?" asked Sarek.

T'Pau didn't answer his question. Instead she said, "I have heard similar ideas from T'Zena as well as several of the Consular Generals on Earth. I agree, but there are more conservative members in the High Command who will not approve of such unorthodox methods. Still...the current situation is unsustainable..."

T'Pau tilted her head and regarded him. "Sarek, on any foreign world one must make adaptations to the ways of the locals, you must seek to know them and understand them. But to know them does not mean you become them. You've done well this evening...but do not forget you are Vulcan, not human. To forget your heritage would not only be dangerous to your people...it would be dangerous to Earth's as well. But I'm sure you realize that."

Sarek suddenly remembered his desire to kill, maim and cause pain. Emotions ran deep in his race. T'Pau had once fought to restore logic when Vulcans had begun to shrug off the teachings of Surak. Had she known the same rage during her struggles?

"Understood, Elder." He bowed his head.

x x x

Amanda's parents called. Her mother was perhaps more teary about the incident than Amanda was. Her father was ready to go on the warpath, as were her brothers.

"Someone should knock that boy's lights out!" her father said. One of her brothers added something to the effect of 'permanently.'

"Vulcan nerve pinch did the job; don't worry, Dad," Amanda said, trying not to cry -- not at the incident--her mother's crying made her want to cry. Her mother just wanted her to have a little romance in her life...

Never accept dates from parents again. Too much pressure to be nice.

It was midday when Amanda heard Carrie exclaim from the living room, "That fucker!"

Amanda went in to see what had raised Carrie's ire.

Walking into the main room, she saw Jason and his father, Senator Ethridge, on the news. Jason was speaking,  _"I just want to extend my heartfelt apologies to Ms. Grayson. It is now obvious to me that I have a serious problem, one that I can no longer ignore. I am voluntarily checking myself into --"_

Carrie hit the mute button. "Crap. Now if you try to press charges he's probably going to get away with just a slap on the wrist...look at where his dad's standing, Amanda. He looks like he's holding a gun to his kid's back. Not that I would blame him."

Amanda raised an eyebrow. It did look like the Senator was holding a gun to Jason's back...figuratively, if not literally. She sighed. This reminded her that she did want to talk to a lawyer.

Carrie turned the sound back on.  _"...I do believe that in the end this experience will make me stronger. Again, I apologize to Ms. Grayson, but I fully accept that she may never be able to forgive me. Thank you."_

"Little spoiled brat," Carrie said. "That was actually effective."

Amanda felt herself go cold. It  _was_  effective...her stomach did a nauseous flip flop. Jason obviously had a career in acting or politics cut out for him.

One more unusual thing happened on Sunday.

Amanda's comm rang. She answered it in visual mode.

"Sarek?" His name came out as a question. She was surprised. Sarek never called. He sent emails and then they would meet, talk in Vulcan for about an hour, and then he would relate events from work, the media, or Terran movies and finish with a curt order to "Explain."

He blinked. "Indeed, it is me, Sarek. Is your view screen malfunctioning, Amanda? I can see you --"

"No, I can see you." He was sitting on the floor in the lotus position, wearing what looked a lot like pajamas. Meditation garb perhaps? He mentioned Vulcans meditated every day. "What's up?" she asked.

He looked upwards and opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "You know what I mean. Stop teasing."

Sarek turned back to the screen. "I merely called to inquire about your well-being."

"I'm fine. I'm not made of glass you know." After her talk with her parents she did not feel like any more emotional conversations. "How about you? Did you manage to make it through the rest of the night without any more altercations or run-ins with green women?"

"Does talking to my superior on Vulcan count?" He held up his hand and examined it. "We aren't green, precisely, but we do have a definite olive tinge around the edges."

"You didn't get in trouble, did you, Sarek?" Amanda asked, suddenly worried.

"No, I did not. My actions were entirely logical. There was some concern about negative publicity, but I have scanned news reports in over one hundred Terran localities and most everything has been quite factual in regards to my intervention. Although -- your universal translators could use some work..."

Amanda raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Why, what did you find?"

"This is from the Albanian Daily Plate of Nourishment, Amanda....At least that is how the universal translator interprets the journal's title." Sarek picked up a PADD and began to read. "Ethridge was disabled by a Roman God of Inferno..."

Amanda laughed. Yes, their universal translators still needed a lot of work. And Albanian wasn't even an  _alien_  language. "It's too bad it would be illogical to be flattered, Sarek..."

x x x

Her house was dark when they came back from the lecture on comparative fetal development in Vulcans and Humans. Sarek waited for her to enter the key code. She checked the readout screen -- it confirmed what she already knew. Her roommate Carrie was not home.

Before...this is where they would part...but this wasn't before, was it?

Amanda entered her pin and heard the door lock disengage. Taking a breath she turned to Sarek. It's not like he would have any expectations. "Would you like to come in, just for some tea...until my roommate comes home?"

"You need rest," Sarek said.

It was true. She had only slept two hours the night before...three the night before that...she hadn't hadn't slept through the night since...Amanda swallowed. It was over. It was the past.

She knew there were dark circles under her eyes, her movements were slower than normal, and she'd been dropping things all evening...but...

"I won't be sleeping anytime soon," she said. Raising an eyebrow she added, "Come on in. I promise I won't bite."

Sarek's mouth opened as though he were going to say something. But then he just tilted his head. "Very well."

In the kitchen she picked up the teapot.

"May I?" Sarek asked, reaching out a hand.

"But you're not wearing your butler uniform," Amanda protested.

"I do not have a witty rejoinder for that, so I will just ask you for the teakettle...Madam," Sarek said, hand still outstretched, voice as dry as toast. Amanda didn't protest.

"So did you enjoy the lecture, Sarek?" Amanda asked.

"I did. It is surprising was how little human embryogenesis differs from Vulcan. Granted, the organs are shifted, but the endoderm, mesoderm and ectoderm develop in the same way...after six billion years of separate evolution...it is..."

"Odd?" asked Amanda, leaning against a counter.

"Fascinating."

Amanda closed her eyes for a moment.

"Amanda?"

"I'm just resting my eyes."

"You need sleep, Amanda."

"I know, but I won't sleep. Were you saying something?"

The kettle started to boil. Sarek turned off the burner and began to fill two waiting mugs. When had he gotten out mugs and put tea bags in?

"I just asked you if it was a commonly held belief if the first three months of Human life qualifies as the continuation of fetal development -- and if you thought this was an adaptation for Human lack of telepathy."

Amanda blinked. "What? Oh, yeah. I guess we have to come out early so we can start learning -- but Vulcans can spend that time tucked away in the safety of Mom since they can be stimulated telepathically. Makes sense."

"Please sit down, I'll bring you your tea."

This time Amanda didn't protest. She ambled into the living room and sat down at the corner of the couch. Sarek followed her a few moments later. Handing her her tea, he seated himself on the arm chair next to her.

"A query?" he said.

"Sure," said Amanda, holding her mug up to her face to enjoy the steam. It was still too hot for her to sip, although she noticed Sarek had no trouble imbibing the scorching hot water.

"You know you need sleep. But you do not sleep. I do not understand," Sarek said.

Taking a deep breath of steam Amanda said, "As soon as I get into bed I start reviewing everything that happened that night." She knew he'd understand which night she was referring to. "Everything I did wrong. Everything I should have done...and then I think of what might have happened...Don't tell me it's illogical; I know it's illogical. But I can't help it...my brain just wanders off on tangents, and the tangents keep me awake.

"And I need sleep. And I want to sleep. But the more I want it and the more I need it the harder it is to reach. I can literally feel my nerves buzzing...And it is making life very difficult. My students are acting up and I don't have the energy to discipline them...And I almost got run over by a shuttle bus today because I was lost in a fog and didn't see it coming." She leaned back against the cushions of the couch and stared at the ceiling.

"This constitutes...a health risk..." Sarek said softly.

"Well, yeah, especially if I get run over by a shuttle bus," said Amanda.

"It is acceptable under the precepts of Surak that I offer my aide in helping you sleep," Sarek said.

Amanda's eyes went wide. What was he suggesting? If he were a human male she knew what he'd be suggesting. Sitting bolt upright she looked over at Sarek. He was sipping his tea. No. It was Sarek.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I cannot only read thoughts and feelings, I can project," he said looking into his mug as though there was something particularly interesting at the bottom. "When we re-teach our young to meditate, we often must calm their minds before they can calm themselves. I have assisted my cousins in mediation upon occasion. I suspect that the same technique could help you sleep."

"Re-teach?"

"Meditation comes easily to Vulcan infants. But we lose the ability if we are not mentored as we grow older. Meditation is an essential part of maintaining our emotional control," Sarek said.

Amanda remembered him saying that before. "So, you'd mind meld with me...or something?"

Everyone had heard of mind melds. They sounded a little scary...she wasn't sure she'd want that. Even for sleep...which was currently more appealing to her than all the gold pressed latinum on the Ferengi homeworld.

"No, that would be needlessly invasive," said Sarek, still staring into his mug. "But I would touch your psi points and project calm."

Oh, Hell...it was less embarrassing than having him read her attraction to him in dance class. And since...that night...her libido hovered around negative ten, so it's not likely he'd pick up any embarrassing, inappropriate or irrelevant attraction from her. "Sounds better than drugs," she said.

Sarek finally turned to look at her. "I would imagine so."

Shrugging, Amanda leaned her head closer and said, "Do your damnedest." Her expectations were zero.

Sarek tilted his head, probably at the expression. Then he straightened. "May I have your mug please."

Amanda handed it over and he placed it on the coffee table in front of them. And then without further ceremony he reached over and put two fingers near her temples and cheek. Amanda let her eyes close.

For a moment she felt nothing, and then those familiar fingers -- too hot and very dry, were on her face. The tiniest bit of concern flickered in her conscious...but was immediately replaced by warmth. Peace. Safety.

Amanda felt her jaw loosen. She hadn't realized she had been clenching it. Every muscle in her body twitched, as though they were tiny springs that had just been sprung. For some reason her mind was filled with a vision of a pool of water. She always found water soothing...did Sarek put that image there, or was that her something her mind did?

She felt warm. Comfortable. Relaxed. And for the first time in what seemed like forever she felt completely safe. "That's nice, Sarek. I wonder if it will work?" she mumbled. Or maybe she just dreamed saying that.

x x x

Opening her eyes Amanda found herself still in the living room, in the clothes she had worn the night before. Her duvet was over her, and Carrie was gently nudging her shoulder. "Hey, it's time for you to get up for work," her roommate said.

Pulling herself upright, Amanda said, "What happened?"

"Well, the weirdest thing happened last night," Carrie said, suddenly somewhat coy. "I came home and found a Vulcan sitting in our living room sipping tea with you fast asleep. He said you had 'requested his presence until my arrival.'"

Carrie blinked. "It was kind of cute and sweet in a weird way....but I guess he's alien and allowed to be weird. Anyway, since we both know you haven't been sleeping well lately, and you were sleeping so peacefully, we decided to let you sleep on the couch. I put your duvet over you and showed your Vulcan to the door."

Crossing her arms, Carrie gave Amanda a small smile and said nothing.

Raising an eyebrow Amanda said, "What? He's just a friend."

"Nice friend," said Carrie.

"Hmmmm...yeah," said Amanda, rubbing her eyes. She felt better than she had in...well...since before that night. "I guess so."

It was a pleasant realization. She felt certain somehow she'd see more of Sarek now; and that they would be more friendly. And...

She blinked. A flicker of her lost libido?

...And then the next day Sarek disappeared.

 


	19. Reactions

 

Amanda was in the area of the Vulcan Embassy usually used for exhibits. A large screen was mounted to the wall. She recognized members of the Embassy staff -- Human and Vulcan. But no Sarek.

 _"...after thirty years apart Vulcan Tibock and his Human friend Hiroshi have finally had a chance to reunite...sadly, under circumstances no less dire than the ones they faced together at New Gallapol."_  the announcer said.

Amanda's eyes went wide. Sarek told her that he had mentioned her idea of a reunion between service members to his superior. But it was still a shock to see it on screen. Seeing Josef and T'Zena, Amanda headed in their direction. Maybe they'd know where Sarek was.

The scene showed the inside of a hospital and a small, older Japanese man on a bed.  _"...You see Hiroshi is suffering from pancreatic cancer. Doctors say that due to the lateness of its discovery his chance of survival is only twenty-two percent..."_

The camera showed a middle-aged Vulcan that must have been Tibock approaching the small man. Amanda noticed Tibock's clothing didn't appear as formal or as expensive as Sarek's. It gave the Vulcan a rougher appearance, despite the typical neat bowl haircut. She noticed his skin was also slightly greener.

Bowing his head towards Hiroshi in Japanese style, Tibock and sat down at an adjacent chair.

The scene shifted -- a change in light made it appear as though many hours had gone by. Hiroshi and Tibock were sitting together facing the camera, Hiroshi still in bed.

Tibock was speaking, his voice perfectly even, but his Standard sounded heavily accented. _"We were aboard a Klingon ship and had been in engaged in phaser fire and hand to hand combat for exactly ninety- seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds. I was badly wounded. I did not think I would survive and asked Hiroshi to abandon me, but he refused and instead dragged me onto one of the Klingon's own escape pods. He was able to launch us away from the ship before it self-destructed."  
_  
As Tibock spoke, Hiroshi's head bowed. He nodded occasionally. When the Vulcan finished, Hiroshi looked up. He looked incredibly frail...his eyes wet.  _"What Tibock leaves out is that the reason he was wounded was because..."_  The little man shook and there were definitely tear stains on his cheeks.  _"...because he had taken a blow from a Klingon bat'leth for me."_

Amanda's own eyes started to tear. She looked around; most of the humans were reaching for tissues. Nearby, Josef shook his head. Catching her eye briefly, he nodded in her direction. Amanda walked up beside him.

The scene on the screen shifted again. Now they were in Shi'kahr on Vulcan.  _"This tender scene of reunion comes just as relations with Vulcans and Humans are at their most tense. Brent Tucker our correspondent on Vulcan, has more."_

_"Thank you, Lisa. As you know, Senator Ethridge recently introduced a bill that would halt food exports to Vulcan for environmental reasons. It has been confirmed by Vulcan High Command that they have already begun rationing food here."_

_"And how are ordinary Vulcans reacting to this, Brent?"_

_"Well Lisa, for once we were able to ask..."_

The scene shifted to a Vulcan woman with a little Vulcan girl in her arms.  _"Humans and Vulcans have been partners for over one hundred and sixty years,"_ said the woman.

The little girl in her arms said.  _"To worry would be illogical."_  And then the little girl looked directly at the camera and tilted her head. Her face was...undeniably cute...A small perfect pixie.

"Senator Ethridge's bill is going to go down in flames," Amanda said with grim satisfaction.

"I'd say so, yes," Josef responded. Someone turned off the screen. Humans and Vulcans were buzzing in conversation throughout the room.

Turning to Amanda T'Zena said, "It was your idea for Vulcan and Human veterans to meet, I believe."

Amanda's eyebrows went up and she smiled nervously. "I did mention the idea to Sarek."

Amanda felt particularly unaccomplished next to T'Zena -- Sarek never made her feel this way. Sarek was a junior diplomat, practically unknown, and always putting his foot in his mouth. T'Zena was a senior diplomat, well known, and she always said the right thing -- at least in front of the cameras. And she was beautiful.

" It was a very good idea. Thank you." T'Zena nodded at Amanda and then at Josef and made her way towards the stairs.

"How are you, Amanda?" Josef asked.

Amanda looked up at Josef -- Mr. Honorable Mention, and felt...absolutely nothing. "I'm fine. Have you seen or heard anything from Sarek?"

Josef pushed his glasses up his nose. "I heard he had to return to Vulcan for family issues."

"I haven't seen him in two weeks," Amanda said. "I got an email that was exactly one sentence long saying that he had to return to Vulcan for some family issues and then -- nothing. Now I'm wondering if I somehow managed to offend his delicate Vulcan sensibilities!"

Should she have said no when he offered to help her sleep? Was there some invisible line they'd crossed?

"Is he your friend?" Josef asked, staring at the now-blank monitor.

That wasn't the response she'd expected. "Yes...yes...I guess so..."

"Then take him at his word." He looked down at her. "He probably just doesn't want to bother you with his troubles."

Amanda's brow furrowed. "So who does he tell his troubles to--his non-friends?"

Josef chuckled. "He tells no one...well, perhaps family."

x x x

"...On the contrary, Mother, I think that I am the logical choice now that T'Yavi's family has released custody of him to our clan." Sarek stood in the red light of the westward facing window. Vulcan was infused with red light...warmth...

"You do not have time to care for him, Sarek," his mother said, standing a meter from him, staring at the ground. She used logical arguments...but through the tenuous family bond they shared, Sarek could feel her sadness. She did not want to let her only grandchild go to Earth -- away from warmth to green and damp and cold. Away from her.

"Nor do you, Mother. Whomever he remains with, his primary care will be a nurse. I have brought T'Lana with me to meet you and quell your reservations -- she has lived on Earth since the first Embassy was established there and has been caring for the children of Vulcan diplomats since then. There is also a creche at the Embassy for emergencies, and a Vulcan school in San Francisco when he comes of age."

Sarek took a step closer to her. "Mother, you and T'Pau have decided that I should remain on Earth a while longer --"

The circumstances around T'Yavi's death were vague...evidence indicated suicide, but she'd died among the V'tosh ka'tur...it was hard to say. T'Pau and his mother both felt that Sarek should remain on Earth, he supposed until all controversy had subsided, all mysteries were resolved.

"We both know that my position is for the most part...ceremonial," Sarek said. "I am far less taxed in my duties than you are at the agricultural ministry."

His mother tilted her head. "It seems of late your position has been more than ceremonial, Sarek. Information you provided was utilized by T'Pau to sway the more conservative members of the High Command. You seem to have some aptitude in...diplomacy."

Sarek took a breath. To be insulted would be an emotional response, but he could still weigh the pros and cons of a statement. Aptitude at diplomacy seemed to be the same as aptitude with subterfuge.

His mother looked up at him. No doubt she could feel his ambivalence. "If it serves Vulcan interests, Sarek...it is logical."

Sarek tilted his head. Wasn't the point of sending him to Earth because some of T'Zena's actions skirted the line of logic -- though they were ostensibly in Vulcan's interest?

It was not the focus of this conversation. "Should I send for T'Lana so you might judge her qualifications for yourself?"

His mother nodded.

x x x

Amanda wandered through the trails of the botanical gardens in Golden Gate Park, mentally mulling over the words of the lawyer she'd spoken to a few days before.

She'd been told that pressing charges against Ethridge was something of a moot point. He'd checked himself into a clinic that treated men who battered women. He'd publicly apologized. Although the lawyer said that Ethridge would probably be found guilty, his time in the clinic would almost certainly count towards any jail time he normally would have received. He'd most likely get off with a slap on the wrist and community service...and Jason had already committed himself to fulfilling community service as soon as he left the clinic anyway.

Maybe he'd be reformed in the clinic? Amanda had no idea. At least the altercation had made the papers -- any other girl who went out with Jason would know what he'd tried to pull...

If Sarek hadn't been there...

Stop right there, Amanda. You don't know what would have happened. You weren't going to go easily...

She tried to think of other things...it was a beautiful sunny Saturday and almost the beginning of the break before summer school kicked in. It was warm enough that she didn't have to wear a jacket...

She tried to let herself just be in the moment, let her mind lose itself in the crunch of gravel under her feet.

And then from along a side trail to the right she caught the sound of a voice she hadn't heard in over four weeks. There were some unrecognizable words in Vulcan and then in Standard. "It is an example of  _Polystichum munitum_ , Sybok."

Sarek?

Amanda bolted down the path in the direction the voice had come from.

"It is a type of evergreen fern native to the west coast of Terra's North American continent. Although they reproduce via spores like fungus -- "

Amanda halted; in front of her was Sarek squatting on the ground, a Vulcan toddler in his arms. Standing up quickly with the child he said in Vulcan,  _"Do not eat it, Sybok."_

The Vulcan did not even seem to notice she was there. Amanda swallowed and waited until Sarek had removed the green frond from the toddler's hands.

"Sarek," she said.

Sarek looked up at her...the toddler looked at the green leaves of fern Sarek had just thrown to the ground.

"Amanda," Sarek said.

He said nothing more. Just stood perfectly still. The toddler looked up in her direction, tilted his head, and met Amanda's eyes.

Amanda took a step towards Sarek and the child. "He's adorable, Sarek..."

The child held out two fingers towards Amanda as she stepped closer. Amanda was about to reach out to him, then stopped and looked at Sarek. "Is this okay?"

"It is acceptable to touch a child's fingers if they initiate the contact." He looked down at the toddler. "Which he has...rather rapidly..."

Amanda reached out and touched the fingers; there was the tiniest little flicker of electricity, which made Amanda laugh...the toddler pressed his fingers against hers more firmly. Amanda felt...happy? No, wait, the child was happy...

She blinked and looked up at Sarek. "Is he telepathic already?"

"Yes, of course," Sarek said, wrapping one hand around so he was touching two fingers of the toddler's opposite hand.

Amanda laughed and felt another flicker of happiness. "You are so cute...all eyes, eyebrows and ears!" She resisted the urge to reach out and touch one of those ears. She turned to look up at Sarek; he was studying the child's face with great concentration.

"So are you borrowing him?" Amanda asked.

"Pardon?" asked Sarek, turning towards her.

"Are you borrowing this little guy from someone?" Amanda said, her fingers still on the child's. "Is he your nephew or a friend's child or something?"

Sarek tilted his head and looked down.

Had she said something wrong? She shuffled her feet a moment. Was she the one inserting her foot into her mouth now?

"No..." said Sarek. "He is mine."


	20. Reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story already is complete on FF.net. I'm very slowly porting it over...but you can go read it now. [Click Here](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5566846/1/The-Native)

Amanda was in the area of the Vulcan Embassy usually used for exhibits. A large screen was mounted to the wall. She recognized members of the Embassy staff -- Human and Vulcan. But no Sarek.

 _"...after thirty years apart Vulcan Tibock and his Human friend Hiroshi have finally had a chance to reunite...sadly, under circumstances no less dire than the ones they faced together at New Gallapol."_  the announcer said.

Amanda's eyes went wide. Sarek told her that he had mentioned her idea of a reunion between service members to his superior. But it was still a shock to see it on screen. Seeing Josef and T'Zena, Amanda headed in their direction. Maybe they'd know where Sarek was.

The scene showed the inside of a hospital and a small, older Japanese man on a bed.  _"...You see Hiroshi is suffering from pancreatic cancer. Doctors say that due to the lateness of its discovery his chance of survival is only twenty-two percent..."_

The camera showed a middle-aged Vulcan that must have been Tibock approaching the small man. Amanda noticed Tibock's clothing didn't appear as formal or as expensive as Sarek's. It gave the Vulcan a rougher appearance, despite the typical neat bowl haircut. She noticed his skin was also slightly greener.

Bowing his head towards Hiroshi in Japanese style, Tibock and sat down at an adjacent chair.

The scene shifted -- a change in light made it appear as though many hours had gone by. Hiroshi and Tibock were sitting together facing the camera, Hiroshi still in bed.

Tibock was speaking, his voice perfectly even, but his Standard sounded heavily accented. _"We were aboard a Klingon ship and had been in engaged in phaser fire and hand to hand combat for exactly ninety- seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds. I was badly wounded. I did not think I would survive and asked Hiroshi to abandon me, but he refused and instead dragged me onto one of the Klingon's own escape pods. He was able to launch us away from the ship before it self-destructed."  
_  
As Tibock spoke, Hiroshi's head bowed. He nodded occasionally. When the Vulcan finished, Hiroshi looked up. He looked incredibly frail...his eyes wet.  _"What Tibock leaves out is that the reason he was wounded was because..."_  The little man shook and there were definitely tear stains on his cheeks.  _"...because he had taken a blow from a Klingon bat'leth for me."_

Amanda's own eyes started to tear. She looked around; most of the humans were reaching for tissues. Nearby, Josef shook his head. Catching her eye briefly, he nodded in her direction. Amanda walked up beside him.

The scene on the screen shifted again. Now they were in Shi'kahr on Vulcan.  _"This tender scene of reunion comes just as relations with Vulcans and Humans are at their most tense. Brent Tucker our correspondent on Vulcan, has more."_

_"Thank you, Lisa. As you know, Senator Ethridge recently introduced a bill that would halt food exports to Vulcan for environmental reasons. It has been confirmed by Vulcan High Command that they have already begun rationing food here."_

_"And how are ordinary Vulcans reacting to this, Brent?"_

_"Well Lisa, for once we were able to ask..."_

The scene shifted to a Vulcan woman with a little Vulcan girl in her arms.  _"Humans and Vulcans have been partners for over one hundred and sixty years,"_ said the woman.

The little girl in her arms said.  _"To worry would be illogical."_  And then the little girl looked directly at the camera and tilted her head. Her face was...undeniably cute...A small perfect pixie.

"Senator Ethridge's bill is going to go down in flames," Amanda said with grim satisfaction.

"I'd say so, yes," Josef responded. Someone turned off the screen. Humans and Vulcans were buzzing in conversation throughout the room.

Turning to Amanda T'Zena said, "It was your idea for Vulcan and Human veterans to meet, I believe."

Amanda's eyebrows went up and she smiled nervously. "I did mention the idea to Sarek."

Amanda felt particularly unaccomplished next to T'Zena -- Sarek never made her feel this way. Sarek was a junior diplomat, practically unknown, and always putting his foot in his mouth. T'Zena was a senior diplomat, well known, and she always said the right thing -- at least in front of the cameras. And she was beautiful.

" It was a very good idea. Thank you." T'Zena nodded at Amanda and then at Josef and made her way towards the stairs.

"How are you, Amanda?" Josef asked.

Amanda looked up at Josef -- Mr. Honorable Mention, and felt...absolutely nothing. "I'm fine. Have you seen or heard anything from Sarek?"

Josef pushed his glasses up his nose. "I heard he had to return to Vulcan for family issues."

"I haven't seen him in two weeks," Amanda said. "I got an email that was exactly one sentence long saying that he had to return to Vulcan for some family issues and then -- nothing. Now I'm wondering if I somehow managed to offend his delicate Vulcan sensibilities!"

Should she have said no when he offered to help her sleep? Was there some invisible line they'd crossed?

"Is he your friend?" Josef asked, staring at the now-blank monitor.

That wasn't the response she'd expected. "Yes...yes...I guess so..."

"Then take him at his word." He looked down at her. "He probably just doesn't want to bother you with his troubles."

Amanda's brow furrowed. "So who does he tell his troubles to--his non-friends?"

Josef chuckled. "He tells no one...well, perhaps family."

x x x

"...On the contrary, Mother, I think that I am the logical choice now that T'Yavi's family has released custody of him to our clan." Sarek stood in the red light of the westward facing window. Vulcan was infused with red light...warmth...

"You do not have time to care for him, Sarek," his mother said, standing a meter from him, staring at the ground. She used logical arguments...but through the tenuous family bond they shared, Sarek could feel her sadness. She did not want to let her only grandchild go to Earth -- away from warmth to green and damp and cold. Away from her.

"Nor do you, Mother. Whomever he remains with, his primary care will be a nurse. I have brought T'Lana with me to meet you and quell your reservations -- she has lived on Earth since the first Embassy was established there and has been caring for the children of Vulcan diplomats since then. There is also a creche at the Embassy for emergencies, and a Vulcan school in San Francisco when he comes of age."

Sarek took a step closer to her. "Mother, you and T'Pau have decided that I should remain on Earth a while longer --"

The circumstances around T'Yavi's death were vague...evidence indicated suicide, but she'd died among the V'tosh ka'tur...it was hard to say. T'Pau and his mother both felt that Sarek should remain on Earth, he supposed until all controversy had subsided, all mysteries were resolved.

"We both know that my position is for the most part...ceremonial," Sarek said. "I am far less taxed in my duties than you are at the agricultural ministry."

His mother tilted her head. "It seems of late your position has been more than ceremonial, Sarek. Information you provided was utilized by T'Pau to sway the more conservative members of the High Command. You seem to have some aptitude in...diplomacy."

Sarek took a breath. To be insulted would be an emotional response, but he could still weigh the pros and cons of a statement. Aptitude at diplomacy seemed to be the same as aptitude with subterfuge.

His mother looked up at him. No doubt she could feel his ambivalence. "If it serves Vulcan interests, Sarek...it is logical."

Sarek tilted his head. Wasn't the point of sending him to Earth because some of T'Zena's actions skirted the line of logic -- though they were ostensibly in Vulcan's interest?

It was not the focus of this conversation. "Should I send for T'Lana so you might judge her qualifications for yourself?"

His mother nodded.

x x x

Amanda wandered through the trails of the botanical gardens in Golden Gate Park, mentally mulling over the words of the lawyer she'd spoken to a few days before.

She'd been told that pressing charges against Ethridge was something of a moot point. He'd checked himself into a clinic that treated men who battered women. He'd publicly apologized. Although the lawyer said that Ethridge would probably be found guilty, his time in the clinic would almost certainly count towards any jail time he normally would have received. He'd most likely get off with a slap on the wrist and community service...and Jason had already committed himself to fulfilling community service as soon as he left the clinic anyway.

Maybe he'd be reformed in the clinic? Amanda had no idea. At least the altercation had made the papers -- any other girl who went out with Jason would know what he'd tried to pull...

If Sarek hadn't been there...

Stop right there, Amanda. You don't know what would have happened. You weren't going to go easily...

She tried to think of other things...it was a beautiful sunny Saturday and almost the beginning of the break before summer school kicked in. It was warm enough that she didn't have to wear a jacket...

She tried to let herself just be in the moment, let her mind lose itself in the crunch of gravel under her feet.

And then from along a side trail to the right she caught the sound of a voice she hadn't heard in over four weeks. There were some unrecognizable words in Vulcan and then in Standard. "It is an example of  _Polystichum munitum_ , Sybok."

Sarek?

Amanda bolted down the path in the direction the voice had come from.

"It is a type of evergreen fern native to the west coast of Terra's North American continent. Although they reproduce via spores like fungus -- "

Amanda halted; in front of her was Sarek squatting on the ground, a Vulcan toddler in his arms. Standing up quickly with the child he said in Vulcan,  _"Do not eat it, Sybok."_

The Vulcan did not even seem to notice she was there. Amanda swallowed and waited until Sarek had removed the green frond from the toddler's hands.

"Sarek," she said.

Sarek looked up at her...the toddler looked at the green leaves of fern Sarek had just thrown to the ground.

"Amanda," Sarek said.

He said nothing more. Just stood perfectly still. The toddler looked up in her direction, tilted his head, and met Amanda's eyes.

Amanda took a step towards Sarek and the child. "He's adorable, Sarek..."

The child held out two fingers towards Amanda as she stepped closer. Amanda was about to reach out to him, then stopped and looked at Sarek. "Is this okay?"

"It is acceptable to touch a child's fingers if they initiate the contact." He looked down at the toddler. "Which he has...rather rapidly..."

Amanda reached out and touched the fingers; there was the tiniest little flicker of electricity, which made Amanda laugh...the toddler pressed his fingers against hers more firmly. Amanda felt...happy? No, wait, the child was happy...

She blinked and looked up at Sarek. "Is he telepathic already?"

"Yes, of course," Sarek said, wrapping one hand around so he was touching two fingers of the toddler's opposite hand.

Amanda laughed and felt another flicker of happiness. "You are so cute...all eyes, eyebrows and ears!" She resisted the urge to reach out and touch one of those ears. She turned to look up at Sarek; he was studying the child's face with great concentration.

"So are you borrowing him?" Amanda asked.

"Pardon?" asked Sarek, turning towards her.

"Are you borrowing this little guy from someone?" Amanda said, her fingers still on the child's. "Is he your nephew or a friend's child or something?"

Sarek tilted his head and looked down.

Had she said something wrong? She shuffled her feet a moment. Was she the one inserting her foot into her mouth now?

"No..." said Sarek. "He is mine."


	21. Unsatisfactory

"Yours?" Amanda asked, her brows furrowing a bit.

Hadn't he just said that? "Yes, mine."

Her face relaxed and then she smiled. "You've adopted a child?"

Moving his fingers away from Sybok's, Sarek did his best to quell his own discomfort. He did not want Sybok to feel his ill-ease.

"No, he is my biological offspring," Sarek said. What was done was done. The past could not be helped.

"Oh, I see. He's beautiful," she said, looking at Sybok. And then she looked down at the ground, her brow furrowing again. "How did I not know this?"

Human memory was poor. Sarek sought to clarify. "Because I did not tell you."

Looking up at him she tilted her head. She had an odd expression on her face that he could not read. "But why didn't you -"

Sarek looked down at the ground. Of course, she was curious, and human...she did not fully comprehend the impropriety of the situation. "We may speak of it later," he said. He would not speak of this in front of Sybok.

Her eyes got wide and she nodded. "So what are you doing here?"

He blinked. "I am trying to familiarize Sybok with the local fauna." He put his son down. "We are reviewing Latin and Vulcan names, as well as ideal climate and means of -"

Sybok immediately plucked a leaf from a fern and tried to stuff it in his mouth. Sarek stopped the small fist just in time.

"How old is he, Sarek?" Amanda asked.

"He is now thirteen months and -"

"Is he talking, yet?" Amanda asked.

"Why would he be talking?" Sarek asked. "He is telepathic."

Amanda kneeled down next to Sybok. "I bet you would like to see the fish pond. Do you like fish?" She punctuated this question by puckering her lips and opening it with a pop. Sybok mimicked.

"That's right, Sybok! Let's go see the fish!" She made the pucker pop face again. Sybok held out two fingers and Amanda responded with a smile. Looking up at Sarek she said, "It might be more age appropriate. Of course," her smiled diminished a little as she stood up, "I really don't know much about Vulcan children."

Tilting his head, Sarek said, "Not much less than I do, I am sure."

x x x

Sarek noted Sybok seemed more stimulated by the fish pond than by his introduction to the local fauna.

The groundskeeper gave his son tiny fish food pellets and Sybock threw them one by one into the pond. Watching the large specimens of Cyprinus carpio lunge and fight for the pellets, Sybok would turn occasionally to Amanda and Sarek and make the pucker pop face.

Eventually, Sybok's movements became more erratic. He started to stamp his feet. "It is almost time for his meditation and nap," Sarek said to Amanda.

He had learned in a few short weeks that to deviate from the meditation sleep routine was to invite disaster. "I must take him home."

As he scooped Sybok up, his son put both hands on Sarek's face and broadcast his anger at being removed from the edge of the pond. From experience Sarek knew if he didn't respond appropriately, Sybok would try to strike him. Vulcan rage started young.

Putting his hand to Sybok's temples, Sarek projected calm and resolve. Sybok did not strike...but he still seethed.

Sarek turned to Amanda; she was watching him with a smile, her eyes wide. "Wow...he's great," she said - obviously not privy to the emotions Sybok was broadcasting to Sarek. "Pardon my professional curiosity, but I've learned so much about the Vulcan education system, and something about Vulcan children, in the course of my education, but this is the first time I've gotten to meet one. He's amazing!"

Hearing Amanda's voice, Sybok turned in Sarek's arms and held out two fingers. As she responded, Sarek could immediately feel the tension in the tiny Vulcan body subside. He sighed inwardly. He had already noted a disturbing tendency in Sybok to be inordinately interested in young, healthy members of the opposite sex - Vulcan and Human. T'Lana, Sybok's nurse, said it was normal, but Sarek was seriously questioning whether seven was too late an age to be bonded.

And then Sarek had an inspiration.

"Would you like to have tea with me while he rests, Amanda...in our home?"

Apparently Sybok understood that suggestion. A tiny hand immediately went to Sarek's face and he was hit by a swell of toddler enthusiasm.

Amanda blinked.

Sarek tilted his head. How to assure her his intentions were correct? Ah, yes...

"Do not worry, Amanda. I will not bite."

Sarek looked quickly at his child. It was logical, he supposed, based on T'Yavi's previous behavior...nonetheless, he was still somewhat shocked at the feelings being projected by Sybok.

Sybok was surprised...and basically asking him, 'Why not?'

x x x

Amanda put the teakettle onto boil in Sarek's kitchen. She was glad it was a warm day and she was wearing a short sleeve shirt; Sarek's home was hot.

It was a small house in the Sunset District; he'd told her he'd recently moved to accommodate Sybok. She surveyed the rooms around her...there was almost no furniture. And there were no pictures on the walls. It was expensive to ship freight from Vulcan - she didn't know if the lack of furniture and decoration was due to this, or just a minimalist aesthetic.

In the living room there was what looked like an incense burner on the floor, and a trunk...and that was it. There were no toys scattered about.

She was filling two mugs just as Sarek entered the kitchen. He had taken off his jacket and was wearing only a light turtleneck sweater above the typical slightly relaxed Vulcan trousers. She'd never seen him in so little clothing. Or his shoulders so loose. Intellectually, she knew he found Earth to be chilly, but seeing him in his home, a bit more relaxed in heat that felt almost sauna-like to her, really drove the point home.

She was happy to see him again was happy to have met Sybok, and happy to be having tea with just Sarek alone in his home; it felt special and right.

...She was also very confused. Handing him a mug she felt the brush of one of his fingers against hers.

He tilted his head slightly at the contact. "You may ask your questions."

She resisted the urge to say, 'Are you sure?' That would imply that he did not mean what he said and would be insulting.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "It's just, you never told me you had a son, and I'm surprised."

She knew he did not have siblings, that his father had died years ago, that he and his mother spoke to one another about once a month. How could he not tell her this?

"I did not know I would ever have custody. His mother recently died and his family wished to seal their union with mine by giving Sybok to our care. The union between their daughter and me did not go as planned...and they attempted to make amends," Sarek said, gazing into his tea.

Amanda was still confused. "But I thought the woman you bonded with as a child died...was that Sybok's mother?"

"Let us sit down," Sarek said, motioning towards a small table.

They had settled into their chairs for a few moments before Sarek began to speak again. "T'Sala, whom I was bonded with as a child, died just before we were to be married. In order to join our two families, her family chose to have her cousin, T'Yavi, stand in for T'Sala."

"Oh." She tried to put the pieces together. "You lost your bond-mate of fifty-six years but then had to immediately marry someone else..."

Sarek sipped his tea. "It was necessary."

"Necessary? I thought by Surak necessary implied a matter of life and death..." She blinked. "I don't understand..."

Sarek looked down at his mug. He was actually...turning green. The hand on his mug went so tight the mug briefly shook, the hand closer to her was clenched into a fist on the table, and the whites of his knuckles stood out against his olive skin tone. "There is no comparable situation among humans. I cannot explain."

Amanda wanted to push, wanted to pry, wanted an explanation...How could they make him remarry 'immediately'? It sounded so inhumane.

But Sarek wasn't human.

...and they were discussing the death of the person he had been telepathically linked with for fifty-six years. It hurt him.

And something else had gone wrong. He'd lost custody of his child...which meant Sybok's mother had been a single parent. What had he called that? A 'dishonorable situation.'

He had been grieving, had had to remarry right away and it hadn't worked out...after fifty-six years...she'd dated one guy for ten years, and still hadn't moved on after two years on the rebound. Sarek was Vulcan but...

"I'm sorry," she said, filled with sympathy. She reached out a hand and draped it over the fist clenched next to her. "It must have been hard for all of you..." Hard for him. Hard for the woman he married. Hard for Sybok.

Sarek's head turned slowly to where their hands were joined. She froze. You did not touch Vulcans.

She swallowed and withdrew it quickly. "Sorry."

She took a deep breath and changed the subject. "I haven't seen you in a while; I've missed you."

Sarek looked down again.

She touched his hand...then made an emotional comment. She was so never getting invited back to his house again. "I mean, I've missed our conversations," she said quickly. "I feel like my progress in Vulcan has come to a halt...or reversed. You've seen what has happened to my Vulcan manners..." She looked pointedly down at his hand. Sarek followed her gaze and tilted his head.

"And I like explaining Terran culture to you," Amanda said. "It helps me see my culture in a whole new light, seeing it through your eyes."

Sarek raised his eyes to hers and she felt instantly relieved. She had not completely insulted him.

"I have had many occasions in the past few weeks when I would have appreciated your insights," he said. "But Sybok's care takes a great deal more time than I had counted on...his mother was not able to provide him with the stimulation, discipline and bonding time he requires. He is...behind in several respects. I have help, but not every evening or most weekends. I have had to put a number of projects on hold for the time being."

Amanda shrugged. "Well, I don't mind sharing you with Sybok. He is incredibly cute...It is fun comparing him to the human toddlers I've worked with. Heck, I wouldn't mind watching him for you on occasion."

Sarek tilted his head. "Really?"

She took a sip of her tea. "Purely out of professional curiosity." This was actually a partial truth. Although she did think Sybok was terribly cute, she was the only education student she knew who had access to a Vulcan child. She felt positively mercenary. Not that she wouldn't give him the highest quality care, but she would probably bring out every child aptitude test she could get her hands on...Heck, a Vulcan parent would probably appreciate that. She looked over at Sarek.

He was staring in his mug again. "It might be unprecedented. But I do have a rather important investigation I have had to postpone due to conflicts in T'Lana, Sybok's nurse's, scheduling...it wouldn't be for a few more weeks..."

"Well, then I'll come by a few more times, have tea with you...play with Sybok, and you can become comfortable with the idea. And if you're not..." she shrugged and smiled. "I will just attribute it to you being an anxious, neurotic, first time parent and won't take it personally at all." She grinned and winked to let him know she was just teasing.

Tilting his head, Sarek remained silent.

x x x

Making the fish pucker face Sybok held up his hand to Sarek's. Sarek felt Sybok's want clearly through the link.

"Tomorrow, Sybok," Sarek said moving his hand to the small Vulcan's temples and projecting calm, just as he'd done with Amanda.

Sarek watched his son drift into sleep. There was a saying of Surak his parents' groundskeeper once told him, 'Every gift is a burden so never wish for gifts'. Sarek had never been able to find this saying backed up in Surak's writings, but he saw the wisdom of it.

Sybok was a gift and a burden. He was an heir. But more than that he was a chance to fix what Sarek felt partially responsible for breaking. Perhaps if he had pushed harder T'Yavi wouldn't have broken their bond. Perhaps he could have helped her attain emotional control.

Sybok seemed not to have been affected by the death of his mother much at all. T'Lana said it meant there was never a firm parental bond established...he might have difficulty ever developing a firm telepathic bond with anyone. Such children had a tendency to stray towards deviancy. Sarek might be able to prevent that fate if he taught Sybok logic and was able to provide a stable, suitable home environment for the child.

Sybok was also behind in his development of gross and fine motor skills, telepathy, and problem solving - although T'Lana was more confident he would recover in these areas. Sarek felt satisfaction every time Sybok achieved some new milestone. At the same time, as Sybok struggled to attain each milestone Sarek often found himself mentally unstimulated. It would be better if Sarek had a vocation that he found more intellectually challenging, but he did not, and Sybok took time away from the personal projects and journal reading Sarek did find interesting.

It had been a welcome surprise to bump into Amanda. Even if it had been especially awkward navigating the differences between their cultures at least it had been a challenge. Sarek stared down at the knuckles she'd grazed with her fingers. It had been a human gesture. The only emotion he had felt from her had been sympathy. Her motivations had not been inappropriate.

What was inappropriate was his desire to turn his hand over and let her fingers graze his delicate telepathic pads. The contact through his knuckles was too light-only the feeling at the forefront of her mind was visible...and that was unsatisfactory.

A/N:

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story, please check out my original stories: [Murphy's Star](http://murphysstar.tumblr.com/post/34481173086/murphys-star-free-excerpt), and my [I Bring the Fire](http://ibringthefireodin.tumblr.com/post/27868080954/fic-i-bring-the-fire-post-1) series--in which Chaos comes to Earth and feels right at home.


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